"chaos is come again"

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[ghostfaceaddams]

hdwgh?iutkysw | chapter three

summary: the yellowjackets party.

warnings: 18+, blood, talk of religion, bullying, I think that's it.

word count: 5,750

a/n: It's been a whole year since I last updated this fic, wowzers! So sorry about that guys. Hopefully it won't happen again, but we'll see :\ I was literally writing chapter four when I posted the first chapter, and now I'm posting chapter three and barely starting chapter five 😭

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Lottie’s doing what Lottie always does at these stupid parties (that were once fun to her): staring at Jackie. Staring at Jackie and hating being a vampire because of all the various smells attacking her. Every teen in attendance at this party in the woods has a distinct scent and Lottie is familiar with some of them; her team’s, Jeff Sadecki, Randy Walsh, and Kevyn Tan. Not only does every human have a personal scent, but there’s also the smell of their blood (obviously). It’s annoying how Lottie can smell both and from so many people. She can smell when someone hooks up and a lot of people have been hooking up tonight. It’s giving her a headache. 

She takes a measly sip from the vodka in her red solo cup. She can eat and drink human food but it doesn’t satiate her hunger / thirst. It doesn’t affect her health physically. It’s just a dull, bleak taste. Seeing as how she could never drink before due to her meds, she liked to drink now, even if it didn’t really taste the way it did to everyone else. At least now she could masquerade as a normal teenager a little easier. 

Though, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to start trying to please the student body because a few of her teammates were aware of her medical condition. Jackie (of course), Natalie, Misty because Misty just knows everything, and -

“Should you be drinking that?”

Lottie looked away from Jackie in the distance and over at her blonde angel of a friend. That sweet button nose and innocent cheeks combatted Lottie’s vampire system and filled her with warmth. Lottie smiled back, because how could you not smile at such a sweet girl? 

“I’m on different medication, and I take it in the morning now. It’s safer for drinking. Besides, it’s one drink for one night.” Lottie reassured Laura Lee. 

“Oh.” Laura Lee nodded and smiled cheerfully. Not for the first time, Lottie wondered how someone could be so cheery and have it be authentic. Lottie liked to think that she wasn’t a pessimistic person, but compared to Laura Lee she may as well be Edgar Allan Poe. She tried to be upbeat about life like Jackie and be loving to everyone like Laura Lee, but it was difficult at times. 

“I’m glad, but I will miss my non-drinking buddy.” Laura Lee added on, that smile still in place and those blue eyes sparkling clearly. 

“Well, I’d still rather hang out with you than anyone else at these things.” Lottie says with a smile of her own that reaches her eyes. And it’s true, what she says. Because even as devoted as Lottie is to Jackie and as much as she loves to just bask in Jackie’s presence, Lottie would rather not be around Jeff or Shauna. Besides, Laura Lee is her closest friend after Jackie. 

Laura Lee and Jackie were similar in the most obvious way and that was their warmth. Part of Jackie had to be upbeat in order to hype up and lead a team of competitive teenage girls. But that carried over into her friendships and her outlook on life. Even when Jackie was miserable and just wanting to give in to that darkness that curled around her insides, she would somehow find it in herself to muster up the same encouragement she gave those around her. Lottie saw that and it always kept her going. Laura Lee was the same way, except she got her strength from God. Both girls were full of love and shared it with everyone around them. Lottie thinks that may be why they’re her two favorite people. 

Another thing Lottie liked about Laura Lee was their ability to just chill together. No alcohol or illegal substances were needed to have a good time. They could just sit and talk and would end up with their sides pulsing and their cheeks tense from laughing. And other times they could just sit together in silence and find the beauty in the little things. Those moments were especially near and dear to Lottie’s heart. Other precious moments would be when Laura Lee would explain to her God’s story and even other religions. It wasn’t just Christianity that Laura Lee was gifted with knowledge of. She had played a pivotal role in Lottie finding a connection with the world and her own spirituality. 

In the last two transitional months, Lottie has craved to go to Laura Lee. If anyone could guide her through this tumultuous change in her life, it would be Laura Lee. She needed to know what the right thing to do with Jackie was. She needed to know that she wasn’t a monster because of what she was now crafted to do and to take. Just because she had the swift ability to take a life and the perverted hunger, it didn’t make her a bad person. Where did she go from here? How could she live her life? Lottie needed to talk to Laura Lee but she didn’t know how to start the conversation. She didn’t know how to ask these things without giving away her new identity. 

Lottie knew that Laura Lee would still love and accept her even if she knew the truth. Frankly, Laura Lee was the only one who Lottie knew definitively wouldn’t change. It was no diss against Jackie, Laura Lee was just built that way. “Love thy neighbor” and “love thy enemy” wasn’t just something Laura Lee read in a book but something that she lived by. And it wasn’t just love but acceptance. At every Yellowjackets event that wasn’t a practice or a game, Laura Lee was asking Van and Taissa if she could officiate their wedding. She was the one who helped coach Natalie into giving Misty a chance. And Laura Lee was the only one who knew about Lottie’s unconditional, eternal devotion to Jackie, they just never spoke about it. But Lottie knew that if she ever needed to, Laura Lee would be there for her. Laura Lee was there for anyone and sometimes it could be scary. (Like how she’s a penpal to a few different inmates at Wiskayok Penitentiary. Jackie had looked terrified, Van looked like shocked Pikachu, Mari made a joke about Laura Lee being on Dateline, Natalie said “cool”, and Taissa engaged with Laura Lee in a conversation about morals and humanity and religion because conversing with a convict was a notoriously bad idea.) 

Laura Lee softly tilted her head to the side in the way she did when she had picked up on something. Lottie assumed that she had been staring too long at Laura Lee in thought. It was probably obvious in her doe eyes that she was struggling with confiding in Laura Lee. 

“Is there something you’d like to talk about, Lottie?” Laura Lee asked kindly. 

Yep, Lottie had been staring too hard in thought. Now she was thinking too hard about how to answer. That wasn’t unusual for Lottie; she had been dealing with feelings for Jackie Taylor since she was thirteen-years-old and had a therapist basically her whole life. Cataloguing different responses and actions was Lottie’s specialty. So really, these new conflicts with being a vampire really shouldn’t be stressing Lottie out as much as they are. 

“If someone has the ability to do something bad, and if they’re tempted by it, does that make them a bad person? Should it stop them from getting close to anyone?” Lottie had to know. She couldn’t keep pushing Jackie away, not if it was the wrong thing to do. And she had to know if her humanity was still intact or if it was lost in the harbor with her past self. She hoped not. 

Laura Lee was a very expressive girl and the team always found it adorable (especially Natalie for some reason) and it was obvious that she had not been expecting that line of questioning from Lottie. Lottie was one of the warmest, groundest people Laura Lee knew and could never see Lottie struggling with those sorts of feelings. But at the same time, it just showed that Lottie still had a conscience. Only a psychopath would claim they were innocent and not see the depravity in their wrongdoings. This was a good sign for Lottie and Laura Lee wanted to share that with her. She loved sharing anything with anyone, but especially Lottie. 

The blonde gestured to a log and they both took a seat. Laura Lee was in a cute yellow jacket over adorable overalls and had two bee clips in her hair. Lottie gracefully crossed a leg over the other and felt like ripping her flesh from her bones when she felt bark graze her bare thigh. She loved nature and she cursed her sensitive vampire senses for ruining that for her. She was in a skirt and fuzzy, pink crop top with buttons. The fuzzy top also bothered her, but it was Jackie’s favorite top of hers so she wore it. She came to this party for Jackie so why not dress for her as well? 

(Lottie loved that about Jackie. How the girl loved unconditionally and would do anything for those closest to her, even if it could potentially harm her. She loved how Jackie went out of her way to do nice things and be positive for others and cheer them up. She loved how Jackie looked out for others. Jackie never ordered Lottie [or anyone else] to do anything. She never dictated anything. But she would say “pink’s your color” or “that red dress would go well with this”. Some people liked to twist that and make Jackie out to be some controlling, selfish bitch, but it was far from the truth. Jackie was kind and selfless, and Lottie loved her. Simple as that.) 

“All human beings have it in them to do bad things because God gave us free will. And all human beings have temptations. That’s why repenting is so important. Doing bad things isn't what dictates being a bad person. How you feel and perceive those bad things is what dictates being a bad person. If you feel remorse and make an effort to repent, then you’re not a bad person. You can’t fault yourself for being the human being that God made you to be. And you can’t let that keep a person out of your life.” Laura Lee preached. 

Lottie did feel remorse, and she did repent. She felt remorse for things that she didn’t even do. Just the thought of drying someone up and flatlining them left her feeling nauseous and wanting to rip her own heart out of her chest. When she fed off of animals and took from God’s creation, she repented. Every meal she thanked God for his creation and the animal for sacrificing itself for her (even if it was obviously not consensual), and then she apologized for doing it. Lottie never took without acknowledging it and being grateful and she always tried to give back.  

But Lottie wasn’t a human being, not anymore. Even if she wasn’t a bad person or a monster, how could she in good conscience keep Jackie in her life? If anything were to happen to Jackie it would be her fault. The blood would be on her hands (literally) and coating her throat and lining her build. That would be her gravest sin and unforgivable. No amount of remorse or repentance could undo killing another - not to Lottie. She knew that God loved and forgave all of his children, and they would still be welcomed into his land if they acknowledged and accepted his existence. But Lottie disagreed with God and didn’t think she deserved that. She didn’t deserve Jackie. 

“But what if you could hurt someone without meaning to? Shouldn’t you take necessary precautions?” Lottie phrased. 

Laura Lee smiled sympathetically, sweet and kind like honey. “Accidents and mistakes are a part of life. You can’t go through life without messing up along the way. Showing remorse and repentance, and hoping to be forgiven is all you can do after the fact. But you can’t hold yourself back from being happy and forging meaningful relationships based on fear. There’s being cautious and there’s acting based on fear.” 

Right. Laura Lee was right - of course. And that was all good and well, but Lottie wasn’t human. She was no longer “going through” life because she had no life to go through. Her life had ended two months ago in the harbor. So did all of this still apply to her? That was her final question, and one she couldn’t ask Laura Lee. She would have to figure out the answer for herself.

“Thank you, Laura Lee.”

Laura Lee smiled. “I hope I was helpful.” She said, almost worriedly. 

Lottie smiled, warm and sweet. “You were.” 

The two smile at each other a little while longer and just bask in the moment of trust and intimacy. For as long as Lottie survived as a vampire, she would carry Laura Lee in her heart and live by her teachings. 

The red solo cup of vodka had kind of just become a prop in Lottie’s hand, her long fingers wrapping around nearly the entire thing. She had gotten bored of tastelessly slipping it and just went for performative. After chatting with Laura Lee for a while, Jackie had found them and dragged them over to dance. Laura Lee wasn’t the best dancer, but she was enjoying herself and looked cute so no one really cared. Lottie was an excellent dancer but sparsely showed off that attribute. It was rare and used mostly to get girls in bed (who she then pretended to be her best friend, sick right?). So she was just smiling as she watched her two favorite girls dance. 

Eventually Laura Lee was pulled away by Mari and Akilah so that just left Jackie and Lottie. There was no Jeff or Shauna around, none of their other teammates. It was just them. 

They held each other’s gaze as Jackie walked back over to Lottie. There was something about this certain eye contact that littered Lottie’s body in goosebumps. (Which was…weird, because her body was only supposed to react like that to danger. Her body was no longer supposed to react like a human’s would. Maybe her body was misinterpreting Jacki as danger.) Jackie sipped her red solo cup, still staring into Lottie’s eyes. They were so close now that Jackie had to peer over the rim of her cup to stare up at Lottie’s smokey gaze. God, what was Jackie doing to her? Was she trying to kill her - again? She was being a little too foxy for Lottie’s sanity. Lottie just wanted to shove that drink away and plant Jackie against the nearest car and kiss her senseless. 

“Should you be drinking that?” Jackie asked, her gaze finally leaving Lottie’s to flit towards the drink in Lottie’s hand. There was so much concern in her voice that it soothed Lottie’s heart like a little kid clutching their security blanket. 

It was different from Laura Lee asking for some reason. Maybe because Lottie couldn’t lie as easily to Jackie, even if Jackie couldn’t tell (not because she was naive, but because Lottie never lied to her therefore she didn’t know what to look for). Or maybe Lottie was just so fed up with the situation and needing to lie to Jackie. This wasn’t what she wanted for their friendship or for her life. Afterlife, fuck, whatever. But instead of answering, Lottie tried to just…walk away. Which she only did when she was too pissed off. 

That worried Jackie. She frowned and reached out, gently wrapping her hand around Lottie’s bicep. “Are you…are you seriously walking away from me?” Jackie asked, more bewildered than anything. 

Resisting the urge to sigh with an attitude or roll her eyes, Lottie slowly turned around. But even without sighing or rolling her eyes, the annoyance and frustration was clear as day. It left a sour taste in Jackie’s mouth, like lemon juice, and it left a dull ache in her chest. It was as if one of those gwapping hammers you used at the fairground had been smashed into Jackie’s chest. It was deep and achy and she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t understand why Lottie was looking at her that way or behaving this way. Her Lottie would never dream of being this way. 

And it killed Lottie to do this. But she was so frustrated and stressed out that she decided to use it to push Jackie away. That’s what she had originally been doing and she needed to stick with that. She had relapsed that day in French class and at practice, but she wouldn’t do it again. No. No, now she was on the straight and narrow. Protecting Jackie was her number one priority and she would do that even if she had to be a bitch to her. It pierced her dead heart but she did it anyway. 

Jackie parted her lips and shifted her feet as she let go of Lottie’s arm. Her wide eyes were shining with betrayal and her lips were parted in a confused pout. She looked exactly like a kicked puppy and it utterly destroyed Lottie. It felt like her soul was being sucked out and extinguished. All she wanted to do was change her mind and fix this before it could be irreversible. But she stayed strong in her conviction. She had to do this, she had to do this. She had to- 

There was a commotion going on behind them that sparked both of their attention. Lottie knew exactly what was happening and to who, but Jackie of course didn’t. Furrowing her eyebrows and frowning, Jackie turned around to try and decipher what was going on. There were sounds of shouting and a crowd seemed to be forming. That combination was never a good thing. When the shorter brunette turned to the other for confirmation, Lottie was already striding across the deserted field to the crowd. 

“Hey, wait for me.” Jackie squeaked and hurried to catch up to Lottie’s long strides. 

If Lottie’s heart could work, it would be pounding right now. As badass as Natalie was, she was still a girl and picking a fight with a dude was never a good thing. Even if technically this douchebag started it and Natalie was going to end it. Natalie could handle herself but Lottie didn’t care. Lottie worried anyways, which was what you do with someone you love. 

Natalie’s lips were parted and her eyebrows were furrowed in outrage as she stared at some dude. It was clear that he was wasted. He had a hat on sideways and an ugly grin. A flannel with the sleeves ripped off and a dirty gray monster truck shirt. He was wearing jeans and dusty boots with the ugly shoelaces. His face was red and eyes were shiny. His buddies and their girlfriends behind him were giggling and cheering him on. Natalie looked ready to murder them all. 

Meanwhile Misty was crying and the other Yellowjackets were getting involved. Laura Lee was hugging Misty while Taissa was trying to diffuse the whole situation. Van kept looking back and forth between Misty, Natalie and Tai, and the boy and his group. Shauna was nowhere to be found. That just left Lottie and Jackie - who were coming up on the group. They could both see everyone and hear what was being said. 

“Don’t fucking touch my girlfriend!” Natalie spat, shoving the guy.  

There was the annoying cliche chorus of “ohhh”’s and more laughter. One of the girls wrinkled her nose and raised her eyebrows at Natalie. “That’s your girlfriend?” 

The slight confusion and disbelief vanished from Natalie’s eyes and was overwhelmed with anger. Her face smoothed out and her jaw ever so subtly clenched. As cool as a cucumber but raging, Natalie stepped forward and decked the bitch in her face. She went down with a cry and clutched a hand to her cheek. Her friends joined her on the forest floor as she sobbed. Half of the guys looked amused while the other half looked pissed off. The main guy, the one who had pushed Misty and was originally beefing with Natalie, stepped forward towards her.

“Nat, watch out!” Jackie warned. 

Taissa jerked Nat back and Lottie slid in, decking the guy right in the nose. There was a crunch and then he fell to the ground like a sack of useless, rotten potatoes. Taissa and Van’s eyes widened and their eyebrows rose to their hairline. Natalie’s eyes widened more softly and then she chuckled. Laura Lee’s jaw dropped and she stared at Lottie. Misty’s crying had paused and she just stared at the boy unmovingly, almost like she was paused. The other girls on the opposing side gasped and stared at Lottie like she was some freak. The boys stared at her in rage and disgust. Some of the boys kneeled to check on their unconscious friend. Lottie could hear his heart beating and knew that he was fine, but his nose was bleeding. 

His nose…

The blood was sharp and tangy. It filled her nostrils and traveled up to her brain, lighting it up. Every hair on her body stood up and she started to feel unbearably warm. Her fangs were struggling against her gums and her throat was starting to scorch. It felt like there was a hole in her stomach, clawing out to reach that blood and digest it all until there was no more to digest. And then she would just go on to the next body - the next blood pump. And she could keep going until her thirst was satiated. Until her entire body felt like a bottle full of blood. Even her talons were itching to extend. 

God, she hadn’t felt this tempted since the moment she opened her eyes as a newborn vampire. 

“Lottie.” 

Like her own personal guardian angel calling her back from the brink of no return, Lottie turned and faced Jackie. Her reaction was the worst of all because it was the most important to Lottie. Jackie’s lips were parted and she looked so…confused. So full of shock that she could barely believe what she saw. She couldn’t believe what Lottie had just done and with such ease. It wasn’t that Lottie defended someone close to her or that she was violent, but the power it possessed. The dark undertones to the action. 

Lottie hated herself more than she ever had before. That look on Jackie’s face would never go away. It would always be imprinted in Lottie’s mind like a tattoo you get as soon as you’re of age and instantly regret. If Jackie was looking at her like this now, she couldn’t possibly imagine how she would look at her if she did something worse. If she showed her real colors. The blood that would be spilt and shown. 

The blood…

Lottie took off before she could make that mistake and to get away from Jackie’s probing stare. She could hear Taissa and then Van, and eventually Jackie, calming down the shouts of the other people. She could hear Natalie calling Misty “babe” and checking her over for any damage. (Misty was okay. She smelled humiliated but physically fine. Lottie knew Jackie, Natalie, and Laura Lee would cheer her up.) She could smell the anger, confusion, love, betrayal, frustration, hesitance, and pain from everyone. But mostly she smelled the blood and heard the heartbeats. Lottie had to get out of there - she had to keep going. Going and going until she couldn’t hear or smell them and want to rip into their jugulars. 

Duncan instructed her through this situation several times before but it still wasn’t helpful enough. She didn’t really like his method anyways. Lottie needed to focus on the possible outcome of her possible sin. She had to imagine the sobs of family members losing their loved one. She had to imagine watching them grieve at the funeral. Most importantly, she had to imagine losing Jackie. She had to imagine how repulsed and terrified Jackie would look at her if she ever saw the brunette commit murder. Emotions helped ground Lottie’s bloodlust. 

She rests a hand on the bark of a tree and leans against it. Despite not being a creature that breathes or even needs to breathe, Lottie closes her red eyes and takes some deep breaths. She keeps her mind focused on the gruesome images to put out the fire in her stomach. Despite her heightened senses, she didn’t hear anyone coming up on her because she was so focused on not going on a rampage. Her body was still warm and wound tight, but she was slowly coming down from the high. Just a little longer and she’d be good to go. 

“Geewhiz, Maths. I know your legs are long but how’d you get all the way out here so fast?” 

Oh, no. Not her. Anyone but her. 

Not Jackie. 

Jackie may be the spearhead for keeping Lottie from sinking her fangs into as many teenagers as possible, but having her in her close proximity at this moment is only distressing Lottie more. If she still had a working heart, Lottie thinks it would be beating out of her chest right about now. It felt like she was having a panic attack. Could vampires still get those? Lottie was never sure if panic attacks really did leave you breathless or if that was all in your brain since you were panicking. 

“Go away, Jackie.” Lottie ordered, surprised by how collected she sounded. 

Jackie scoffed and stomped closer to her best friend. “That is it, Lottie Matthews. I have had it up to here with your mysterious attitude and flaky attendance. I know you’re going through a hard time but this is unacceptable!” 

You have the faintest idea of what hard time I’m going through right now, Lottie bitterly thought to herself. 

Lottie groaned but Jackie persisted. Of course she did, because she was a persistent fucking little puppy with a bone when it came to the safety and wellbeing of those she cared about. Jackie could be that knight from that one dumb movie with all her limbs cut off saying, “it’s merely a flesh wound” and keep on going until Lottie told her what was wrong. The image of Jackie saying that was, well, adorable. It almost made Lottie smile. But then she thought about the realism and all the blood there would be in that situation and - yeah. 

She wanted to taste Jackie’s blood more than anything. Just a drop on her gums - that would be enough. But she had to know what Jackie tasted like before her lifetime was over. But that was wrong and Lottie couldn’t do that to her Jackie. No. No, Jackie needed to get away. As far away from Lottie as fast as possible. 

“Look at me, Lottie. Come on. It’s just me.”

Just me. Yeah, that’s the fucking problem. Lottie groaned again and winced as her incisors protruded out of her gums, breaking the skin and aching. The moon flashed against her silver fangs as she bowed her head. Oh, fuck. 

“Go!” Lottie shouted. 

“Lottie, what is wrong with you? It’s me!” Jackie implored, grabbing Lottie’s arm and turning her around. 

Lottie slammed her eyes shut and turned her head from Jackie. She tried to close her mouth and clenched her hands into fists. Her talons embedded themselves through the palms of her hands, causing blood to drip through the crevices of her fingers and shower the grass. It stung but she didn’t give a shit. All she cared about was trying to escape from Jackie without hurting her or causing a scene. 

Frowning, Jackie reached up and cupped Lottie’s face with the utmost care. It was as if she was handling a newborn baby and didn’t want to drop it. It was as if she was handling her own newborn baby and could never even fathom causing an ounce of harm to her. In the past, Lottie was always warmer than Jackie, but now Lottie got to be the one to feel Jackie’s warmth. Even if Lottie never got hot or cold, she could still feel the temperature. She could still feel Jackie. Her Jackie. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, isn’t this how you get aids?” Jackie asked with stitched eyebrows as she watched Lottie. The latter always loved when the former made that face because it was so adorable. The way a crease formed above her eyebrows and her lips were slightly puckered, as if she was disgusted when really she was just confused. Though in this situation, Jackie was definitely both. 

Lottie grinned slightly as she looked up from the towel on the wooden floor of their treehouse. “We’re fourteen-year-old rich girls that get their yearly vaccines and monthly checkups. We’re both healthy as a horse. Besides, it’s just a little blood.” 

Jackie huffed as Lottie reached behind her. “Just a little blood.” 

In Lottie’s (divine) hands was a knife in a sheath. The sheath was an authentic native american sheath that Mr. Matthews had inappropriately bought. There were a few knives Lottie could have chosen for this occasion, but she chose this beautiful one because she knew it would piss her father off. In a moment of obscurity due to being unmedicated, she felt bold and wanted to fuck with her father. And be connected to Jackie. So here they were! 

The knife was…long. It was at least six inches and was thick. It was definitely a heavy duty buck knife that Mr. Matthews liked to show off to his buddies even though he never once went hunting in his life. The sheer size of it left Jackie’s chest feeling tight and her breath stuttering. Her lips parted and there was a subtle sheen of fear gleaming in her eyes. 

Lottie reached out with her free hand and placed it over Jackie’s right wrist. Her long fingers curved all the way around Jackie’s small wrist and gently squeezed. Her thumb was scalding to the touch as it gently brushed Jackie’s pulse point. Her doe eyes were bright and kind as she gazed deeply into Jackie’s eyes, straight through to her soul.

“Hey, you don’t have to be scared. It’s just a little cut on the palm of your hand. They do this in Supernatural and The Vampire Diaries all the time. We’ll be okay. It’s just me.” 

It’s just me. That’s what had been enough to soothe Jackie’s fears and quell the nauseous churning of her stomach. Her wide eyes clung to Lottie’s and the truth burning in them. There was no one Jackie trusted more than Lottie. Her life and her safety was never once a concern when Lottie was involved. 

“Okay. Just make it quick.” Jackie grimaced.

Lottie smiled in relief and brought her hand back. She picked the knife back up and squared her shoulders. With her left hand facing palm up, she gripped the knife in her right hand and brought the blade over her hand. Jackie’s face was wrinkled, nerved, as she watched Lottie practically take delight as she glided the blade across her palm. Lottie cupped her hand to keep her blood from dripping onto the towel and then wiped the blade on said towel. Then she passed the knife to Jackie. 

The other girl hesitated before taking the blade with trembling hands. Swallowing hard and breathing heavily, Jackie gripped the handle of the knife and let it hover above the palm of her left hand. Her spine was as straight as a rod and her shoulders were tensed as her breathing became labored. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. She was fucking crazy for cutting herself! She gulped before shakily dragging the blade across her palm. It hurt worse than they made it look on tv - worse than Lottie made it look. She was already nervous and the pain didn't help, so her cut was jagged whereas Lottie’s was neat. 

Gasping, Jackie thrusted the knife back at Lottie (carefully). Lottie wiped the knife off again and set it beside before reaching out to Jackie. The taller girl had the softest, sweetest smile on her face as she looked at Jackie with hope and love. It was a small smile but it caressed her face and made her look so young and innocent. It made her dark eyes twinkle. Jackie was helpless and gingerly grasped hands with Lottie. She hissed again but not as badly. Lottie’s smile widened. 

After almost a few seconds of clasping hands, Lottie pulled away. She turned around and retrieved some gauze before she started wrapping up her hand. Then, wordlessly, she did the same to Jackie. There was so much care and practice when Lottie bandaged up Jackie’s hand, it was obvious to even a blind person how devoted the girl was to Jackie. She would do anything for Jackie Taylor, be anything for her. As long as Jackie Taylor was safe and happy, then that was all that mattered to Lottie Matthews. 

Lottie gently kissed Jackie’s bandaged palm then sat up. “Now we’ll always be connected.” 

Now, Lottie was officially Jackie’s and Jackie was officially hers. Even if Jackie didn’t see it that way. Even if they never got together romantically. They were forever intertwined now. 

Lottie’s eyes fluttered open without her permission, seeking out Jackie’s gaze. She lifted her head and couldn’t help but melt into the hold Jackie gingerly had on her cheeks. Jackie’s already big eyes widened and she gasped. Her hands fell away from Lottie’s face and she backed away. Immediately, Lottie’s heart (metaphorically) began to race and her breath (metaphorically) got stuck in between her chest and her throat. It felt like her chest was caving inward and her shoulders were being squeezed. She felt out of control with panic. 

Jackie’s heart was racing and her blood was rushing, Lottie could hear and smell both. The shorter girl’s breath picked up speed and became slightly choppy. There was a slight tremor to her body that was barely noticeable. Shock was slowly filling her body and contorting her muscles. 

“You, your ey- your te-. You’re a fucking-!”

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

Okay, someone please tell me if I’m being too woke about this, but I’ve seen multiple fanarts, fanfics, and discussions of putting popular fandom ships into Obsession, and I personally don’t think we should be turning a movie that is explicitly commenting on sexual and psychological coercion, incel culture, and male entitlement to women’s bodies and autonomy into fun shippy content.

Do you really want to be casting your OTP into a dynamic where a man places a curse on a woman that traps her in her own body, coerces her into falling in love with him against her will, ignores her repeated attempts to break free, and repeatedly rapes her? A woman who becomes so desperate to escape that she literally begs for death in the fleeting moments where she regains control of herself? For me, that dynamic is so fundamentally about the violation of autonomy that it’s hard to see it as shippy in any sense.

If you’re using Obsession as a framework to actually explore themes of coercion, autonomy, and abuse with characters from other media in a way that’s not romanticizing it, then fine ig. But that’s not what I’m seeing at all. This is not an opportunity to be like “Aww my OTP are so codependent/possessive.” I don’t really think this is a concept that should be treated that lightly.

[nessa007]

do y’all understand just how insane this is???? 🤯

via filmdreams

[miasjoys]

I can't go on without you

part 1 ; part 2 ; part 3

summary : after almost a year as windfall, it is time for her first event with bombsight, neither of them planned that it would go all wrong.

pairing : fem! self ship x bombsight (robbie)

warnings : angst, mentions of death, character almost dying, vought being assholes again, but happy ending.

Chicago, 1953

The military exhibition was just pure marketing even if Vought sold this as a patriotic act. As if they were paying respects to the lives lost during the war.

There were American flags stretched across every building while marching bands could be heard from afar.

Thousands of civilians were crowded against barricades. They were fighting to be in front and get the best spot to see America's heroes in flesh.

To bombsight, it was the perfect recipe for disaster. The crowds were already going crazy and he doubted that using powers near them was really a bright idea but once again, Vought gave him no choice.

“You’re scowlin’ again.”

Chiara's voice was what pulled him from his thoughts as he glanced sideways toward her. She was standing beside him near the center of the exhibition platform that overlooked the city square.

For the moment, they were still hidden by the curtains, giving them the freedom to act however they wanted before having to perform for the crowd.

Wind was tugging at the golden cape, while her blonde hair was curled perfectly and her makeup made her look like the picture perfect Hollywood star.

She looked beautiful tonight. She always did but today, Vought outdid themselves for her first real interaction with the crowd.

But it only made his stomach twist with dread because beneath that make-up and smile, she looked exhausted. Sometimes, it even looked like she was going to pass out.

Most people couldn't tell but he could. He noticed how pale she had become those last few weeks and the powder barely concealed it. Her smile also looked strained and whenever she used her powers, he noticed how her hands started shaking.

Vought were the only ones who also noticed but they didn't care.

“You alright?” He asked quietly even though he doubted she would be honest about it.

She still had a hard time opening up about her more negative feelings, always afraid of it burdening the person she would confess to. He knew it came mostly from her upbringing but now that they were together, he hoped that it would change with time.

He was proven right when she smiled at him.

“I am,” she replied even if both knew that it was a lie. But he did not have the opportunity to push further when one of Voughts's handlers approached them.

“Places. We're live in thirty seconds.”

His jaw tightened at this. Of course it was live, Vought had to make everything into a spectacle.

He couldn't even pay attention to the orchestra swelling or the announcers introducing them, he was too focused on the way her fingers brushed briefly against his hand.

It was as if searching for grounding before being forced apart for the cameras. His hand instinctively closed around hers for half a second before the handler had enough and forced her to move away.

Everything felt heavier today. As if the atmosphere itself knew something was going to go wrong.

Even his jacket felt heavier, but that was for another reason. A vial of V1 was hidden in his pocket, he stole it as soon as Chiara confessed to him that her powers were killing her.

He never planned on stealing it until that day. But it all changed with her because he knew that he would do anything to keep her safe.

When the announcer's voice boomed again at the same time the curtains were drawn open.

“Begin launch simulation,” one of Vought employees said behind them.

And they just needed to look up to see the artificial missiles being activated along a suspended cable system. Vought really did go all out for this event.

At first, everything went perfectly as he easily intercepted the first missile while Chiara redirected another with more controlled currents of air.

And everyone seemed to love it, if he took into account the way they were constantly blinded by flashes while their names were screamed by the crowd.

But something ended up malfunctioning in the middle of it. Since the beginning, a missile kept jerking violently but now it was its time to shine as the cable suddenly snapped, sending the missile plummeting directly towards the crowd.

Before he could even react, Chiara was on it as she tried to redirect the missile away before it could hit the ground.

To his relief, it worked, but only for a second but the missile detonated prematurely. Something neither of them could have anticipated.

The explosion ripped across the square and it shook the nearby buildings while shockwaves slammed through the crowd.

And Chiara ? She completely lost control as the winds erupted outward her body in violent bursts, sending the barricades flying and the windows shattering.

The sound of civilians screaming was deafening but he forced himself through the storm in search of her.

“CHIARA!” he screamed at the top of his lungs as he desperately looked around.

When he finally saw her, she collapsed on the ground near the ruined platform. The concrete beneath her cracked from the pressure of the winds that kept erupting from her body.

She was on her knees, her trembling hands pressed against the pavement as if she could hold herself together and contain her powers. As if she could stop herself.

Blood was pouring heavily from her nose and she had coughing first that made her spit blood.

Even though she was in clear pain, she couldn't stop apologizing because no matter what, she couldn't stop herself.

“I'm sorry–” she choked between two coughing fits. “I can't–”

Another violent gust erupted from her, making the cars around them rock violently, almost sending them flying.

He only managed to reach her the moments her arms gave out beneath her, sending her to collapse hard onto the pavement.

“Chiara!” he yelled in panic as he dropped beside her instantly, grabbing her head before it could smash against the ground.

But terror filled him as soon as he had her in his arms. Her body felt weak, way too weak and way too cold. Blood stained the corner of her lips while she struggled to breathe, as if every inhale was painful to her.

And at every spike of pain tearing through her, the wind grew stronger.

“Hey,” he said quickly as he carefully cradled her face, smudging blood on his gloves and her cheeks. “Stay with me.”

Yet her eyes barely focused on him, she was unable to truly pay attention to him.

“Robbie…” she still managed to mutter before another cough tore through her violently. Blood splattered across his jacket as she did so, but he couldn't care about that when she was literally dying in his arms.

“It hurts,” she whispered weakly.

Those two words broke his heart as he remembered how she told him that her powers were killing her. He knew that if he didn't do anything right now, her organs would all shut down and he couldn't let that happen.

He made his décision almost instantly as he shoved his hand inside his jacket to retrieve that small syringe that held the V1.

Once she noticed the syringe between his fingers, the blue liquid, fear flickered in her eyes as she could only remember how that same liquid was killing her right now.

“No…” she muttered between ragged breaths.

“I know.” he cooed as he tried to reassure her. He knew she didn't trust the liquid in that syringe but it was the only way to save her.

She stopped for a second when she noticed the look of genuine fear on his face. It was the first time that she saw that look in his eyes since she met him. He was not scared for himself but for her.

“I stole it.”

The winds around them only grew stronger, covering the screams of the Vought employees.

“Robbie… don’t…” she pleaded as she weakly tried to grab his wrist.

“You’re dying.”

The hand still cradling her cheeks was trembling as his thumb rubbed her cheek to dry her pained tears. Yet, at the same time he was smudging her own blood there.

“You think I’m gonna sit here and watch that happen?” His voice cracked harshly as he seemed ready to break down at the mere thought of her dying. “No. No goddamn way.”

Before she could try to reply, another coughing fit stopped her, splattering even more blood onto his uniform.

At this sight, he knew he couldn't wait anymore as he directly moved to uncap the syringe.

“Forgive me later.”

Then, without any hesitation, he drove the needle into her arm and injected the V1.

Almost instinctively, she screamed and her body squirmed violently against him. The winds got so strong that they slammed him backwards but he held onto her, wrapping his arm around her so she wouldn't get hurt in the process.

“Chiara!”

He could see the way her blue veins were glowing unnaturally beneath her skin as the V1 was spreading fast while she became almost still in his arms.

For a moment, he thought that he killed her himself but suddenly, everything stopped. The winds vanished as the debris that were previously floating around crashed onto the ground.

The following silence felt heavy into the now empty and ruined streets. But he couldn't focus on that, not when she was still limp in his arms.

“Chiara.” he tried once, the lack of response making him panic.

“Chiara!” he tried again, gently shaking her. He needed her to wake up.

And finally, a shaky breath escaped her lips. It was weak but it was there. At this, relief flooded him and a heavy exhale escaped his lips when her eyes opened once again.

The burst blood vessels in her eyes faded almost directly while her breathing seemed smoother.

When her gaze met his, the air suddenly felt warmer as his mere presence was enough to calm down the atmosphere itself.

He didn't even dare to move, scared that if he did, she would go limp again and reveal that he didn't save her, that it was all in his head.

But when she tried to reach for him, he broke. He pulled her tightly against his chest as he buried his face into her hair. He knew she could feel the erratic beat of his heart and how shaky his breath was but he didn't care.

“You scared the hell outta me,” he whispered against her hair. He then pressed kisses there, unable to stop himself, it was a way for him to make sure that she really was there.

Meanwhile, she weakly buried her face against his shoulders, unable to truly process what happened to her.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t. You're alive and that's what matters.”

They both could hear the sirens through the streets and the way the Vought executives were screaming their names from afar.

But none of that mattered to him. What mattered is that she was alive, that she was here.

He knew for certain that nothing would take her away from him again, and certainly not Vought.

[miasjoys]

Somethin' stupid

part 1 ; part 2

summary : one news seems to be enough to change everything between chiara and robbie

pairing : fem! self ship x bombsight (robbie)

warning : SMUT (18 +), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), mentions of death, a bit of angst but also a bit of fluff

The first sign that something was wrong with her happened during filming a new commercial.

At first, she believed that it was exhaustion. After all, Vought was constantly pushing her schedule harder and harder now that Windfall was getting more famous in America.

She was now doing more interviews, more commercials beside bombsight because audiences adored the two together.

She ignored the warning signs such as dizziness whenever she used her powers for too long. Or the constant headaches blooming behind her eyes. Or even the sharp pressure in her chest whenever she lost control over her powers.

Vought doctors dismissed her worries so she did the only thing she could do, to keep smiling.

—

The commercial took place inside a familial house where Bombsight was supposed to return to after a fake military operation while Windfall greeted him home.

It was domestic and Vought adored it. They knew that the audiences would adore this.

The cameras rolled while Chiara cooked, making the ingredients float around her.

“Beautiful,” the director encouraged, clearly proud of how far she had come since her first commercial.

Then, Bombsight stepped into frame beside her. As soon as he was near her, the air shifted around them. Every time he was near her, her heartbeat reacted.

“Welcome home,” she recited softly as she offered him a bright smile.

“Miss me?” he asked smoothly. It was scripted but the smiles that tugged both of their lips weren't.

“Unfortunately.” At her reply, he snorted quietly beneath his breath and the director adored this scene.

“Keep that,” he shouted excitedly. “That chemistry right there.”

She tried to stay focused on the scene, on her script but suddenly, a sharp pain split through her chest making her unable to breathe.

Every ingredient dropped on the ground while wind surged outward hard enough to shake the lights. At this, some of the crew members stepped back immediately, fearing for their own safety.

Yet, bombsight was the only who didn't look at her in annoyance, but in concern. She was pale, way too pale.

“Cut!” the director yelled. “Jesus Christ—”

The short break allowed her to press a trembling hand against her ribs while she struggled to breathe normally again.

“I’m okay,” she managed automatically as she already felt guilty about interrupting the shooting. Especially after how well everything was starting to evolve.

But that wasn't enough to convince him as he was already walking toward her, not even letting her finish speaking.

“You don’t look okay.”

“It’s just stress.” she quickly replied as she didn’t want him to worry too.

“Bullshit.”

The words came out sharp, maybe way sharper than intended but he was more worried about her than about his own tone.

Still, he lowered his voice almost immediately when he noticed the startled look crossing her face.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Just… sit down a second.”

Before she could even protest or act like she was fine, his hand settled against the small of her back to guide her toward a nearby chair.

The feeling of his hand, even gloved, resting against her back grounded her. Once sat, his hand moved to rest on her knee, drawing soothing circles on the exposed skin.

Unfortunately for her, Vought noticed her state.

—

Three days later, Vought asked her to come to the medical wing once again. It was her second time and by now, the white walls and leds became suffocating and too familiar.

They kept monitoring whenever she was using her powers, whether by making wind bursts or by dropping the oxygen in the room. Those examinations left her completely exhausted.

But today, the doctors looked nervous, and she knew that it meant one thing, that it was bad.

She sat on the edge of the examination while two doctors quietly reviewed the papers together across the room. They weren’t concerned by the fact that she could hear them.

“She’s deteriorating faster than expected.” one said “The vascular strain is worsening.”

Some of those words were pure gibberish to her but it was easy to understand that it was bad, like really bad.

“And her lungs?” one of the two asked, creating a small silence as they both looked at the paper.

“Pulmonary damage.”

A feeling of dread settled heavily inside her stomach. She wasn’t dumb, she knew that it was bad and that she probably would die if the list kept getting longer.

Finally, one of the two men approached her directly, making her look up at him. Just a look at his professional expression was enough to make this feeling of dread even more suffocating.

“Miss Adami,” he said slowly, in a rehearsed voice, as if he was trying to calm down a skittish animal. “Your body is struggling to adapt to the Compound V.”

“What do you mean ?” She asked as she felt her throat tightening, but she refused to break down in front of them.

“It means that your powers are placing stress on your organs faster than anticipated.” He said calmly, as if he wasn't telling her that she was literally dying.

“Your generation of supes is still experimental compared to V1. So we still are unaware of some of the side effects.”

His words made her feel sick, she felt ready to puke but she forced herself to stay calm.

“You'll need monitoring,” he continued, not even caring about sparing her feelings. “We will make sure to reduce your emotional strains, to avoid some of your power output whenever it's possible.”

She almost laughed at this. As if Vought would care about putting less pressure on one of their products. They cared more about money than about them.

“What happens if it gets worse?” she asked. She could feel the way her voice grew shaky as she spoke, but she didn't feel like caring about it.

Only silence replied to her as the doctors clearly hesitated. Somehow, that was even more terrifying to her.

—

Bombsight found her afterward while she sat alone outside the medical wing. Her makeup was still a mess, it was pretty obvious that she had been crying. The mascara was smudged just below her eyes.

He immediately crouched in front of her, his hand moving directly to her knee, massaging it in a comforting manner. The gesture became almost automatic after the first time he did it.

“What happened ?”

She tried smiling at him but it failed directly. She felt unable to fake happiness this time.

“They say my body is not adapting properly to compound V,” she admitted as she looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “Every time I use my powers, it hurts me.”

Speaking it aloud felt even worse, because it made everything real. Things were only starting to look good and she wouldn't even be able to truly enjoy it.

“What do you mean it hurts you?” he asked in a worried tone.

“They say that I have pulmonary damage. But it's not only that, it attacks all of my organs too.”

For a second, his face turned blank. He couldn't even hide behind his smirk or sarcasm. He only felt stunned anger.

“And they still got you filming? They still got you doing their stupid events ?”

She didn't even answer him, but it was enough to answer his questions. He couldn't stand still anymore, standing up abruptly. He started muttering as he paced around the room.

“Those goddamn—”

“Robbie.”

She called out softly and her voice was enough to stop him instantly. The look on his face was hurting her even more than admitting that she was dying.

Because for the first time, someone truly cared about her but she didn't even have enough time with him.

Slowly, he crouched down in front of her again and stayed silent for a while until she admitted softly : “I'm scared.”

Her confession was only a whisper but it was enough for him to look down at his hand that moved to rest near her hand.

“Yeah.” he answered quietly.

He couldn't even reassure her because he was just as scared. But still, an idea formed in his mind.

—

After that day, something shifted, as if the distance they tried to maintain was slowly disappearing.

He was always close to her, whether during filming, interviews or even galas. It was as if he parted from her, she would disappear.

Some would call it hovering but she didn't care. She allowed him to.

Because if she died, at least, she would have enjoyed his presence as much as possible.

—

A few days later, during a rainy evening, filming ended up late. Most of the crew had already gone home, wanting to avoid the storm that was brewing outside.

Ever since she earned her power, the sound of thunder became weirdly calming.

She sat wrapped in Bombsight’s leather jacket. Once again, she was sitting on the porch of one of the fake houses, the script for tomorrow laying forgotten on her laps.

She was watching Bombsight as he leaned against an artificial streetlight, smoking while he also listened to the sound of rain hammering against the roof of the studio.

“Aren't you tired of staring ?” He asked her suddenly, not even turning to look back at her.

At his words, she could feel her cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

“I wasn’t staring.” she quickly defended herself. She knew that she answered way too fast but she didn't care.

“Sure.”

An amused smirk stretched his lips while she rolled her eyes. Silence settled between them once again, but it didn't need to be filled, it was comfortable.

Eventually, he turned his head to look at her. His gaze was soft but also full of worry for her.

“You should be home resting.”

“You should too,” she countered. Since that night when she saw him taking those pills, she made the vow to stay on set until he left, so at least, he wouldn't take some under her watch.

“The difference is I’m not the one coughing blood after moving air around all day.”

Her expression crumpled directly at his words, making him mutter a curse as he regretted his words as soon they left his mouth.

“Chiara–”

“No, you’re right.” she said softly, her voice shaky. It always hurts to hear that, no matter how true it was.

“I think I'm dying a little,” she finally added in a whisper, playing with her fingers. A nervous gesture she gained through the years.

That confession was enough to have him moving. He crushed the butt of the cigarette under his foot before crossing the set in long strides, stopping directly in front of her. He was now so close that she has to tilt her head up to meet his gaze with her own.

“You listen to me,” he said, voice low but rough. “You are not dying.”

“But you know what the doctors said–”

“You're not,” he said, truly believing his own words. He had a plan but he couldn't tell her anything yet, even if he was itching to spill everything.

Slowly, he lifted his hand, giving her time to pull away if she wished to. When she didn't try to move away, his warm and calloused fingers brushed beneath her chin. The touch was gentle though as he tilted her face up.

Neither of them moved though, even if her powers reacted directly to the proximity. A warm wind swirling between both of them.

His eyes darkened as they flicked down to her lips. “Christ,” he murmured, his voice rough with months of restraint and longing.

Then, he finally kissed her. It wasn't soft or hesitant but deep and urgent as if a dam finally broke. His lips were firm and warm against hers, she could still taste and smell the cigarette that he just smoked.

His hand stayed cupped beneath her chin while the other slid down to her waist, pulling her closer until her body was flushed against his chest.

Her breath hitched against his mouth. One of her hands fisted in the front of his buttoned shirt, anchoring herself while the kiss almost overwhelmed her.

She could feel how his stubble scraped against her skin while his tongue brushed against her lower lip. Instinctively, she parted her lips for him as he took this opportunity to deepen the kiss that became even more consuming.

The wind that was already swirling around them grew stronger. Making papers scatter around and the lights swaying overhead.

Yet, as soon as his thumb stroked her jaw tenderly, the wind stopped. Once again, he was able to calm her without even doing much.

When he finally pulled away, they were both breathing hard. Both of their lips were swollen and tingling but they couldn't hold back the smile stretching their lips as they stared at each other.

Bombsight rested his forehead against hers, their eyes closing for a moment.

“Well… I guess we crossed a new line,” he said, a breathless laugh escaping his lips. She couldn't even her own shaky laugh that escaped her in return.

This new feeling was overwhelming but before she could truly overthink it, she leaned in and kissed him this time.

—

That night, after they left the set, she followed him back to his apartment. They had some quiet agreement that both didn't want to be alone tonight, and their first kiss didn't help that.

Once inside, she lingered near the doorway while he tossed his keys onto the counter.

She took in the inside of his apartment. Just like hers, it was provided by Vought so their layout was the same. But his apartment was a little messier, with records stacked near a record player and an empty coffee mug near his leather couch.

There were also posters of his last two movies hanging on the wall. There were some photos of his time at the army and with his parents but his voice took her out of her thoughts.

“Coffee ?” He offered her with a smile.

“At midnight ?” She replied in an amused tone as she followed him into the small kitchen, leaning against the counter.

“I could offer you something else,” he finally suggested. His tone and his smirk were enough to depict what he was hinting at.

“And what is that ?” She replied playfully, not moving away as he slowly stepped closer, giving her every chance to step away.

Once his hands settled on her waist, his palms warm through her dress, her breath hitched slightly. Those touches were still new but she already craved more of those.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice low. As if he didn't want anyone to hear them even if they were alone.

She simply nodded before leaning and pressing her lips against his, she wasn't used to initiating but tonight, she didn't care.

The kiss was soft at first but quickly deepened with need. His response was just as hungry as he pulled her closer.

His hand slid to her back, slowly unbuttoning her dress between kisses. Once her dress crumpled to her feet, then his lips moved down to her neck, to her collarbone and to the swell of her breast while he unfastened her bra.

When she reached for his shirt, she could feel her fingers trembling. As soon as he noticed this, he helped her by guiding her hands over his chest to let her explore at her own pace.

“Come on,” he murmured against her skin before guiding her to his bedroom.

She had no time to take in the new space as he laid her down on the bed, settling between her parted thighs. His hands and mouth stayed gentle but he mapped every inch of her skin as he kissed his way down her body.

When his mouth wrapped around her left nipple, a soft whimper escaped her parted lips at the sensation. Moans followed when he kept his attention on her breasts until her nipples hardened.

Then his fingers made their way between her legs as he pulled her panties to the side. When his index made contact with her slick heat, her hips bucked instinctively at the touch while she gasped.

“Tell me if anything feels too much,” he murmured against her skin, looking up to meet her gaze with his own.

“I promise,” she simply whispered as a reassurance, it was quickly followed by a shaky moan when he inserted his fingers inside her.

It was obvious that he was experienced with the way he kept rubbing a spot inside her that she never reached before by herself but that felt way too good.

She could already feel herself getting close and by judging the smirk on his face, he could feel it too.

“Come on… let go,” he murmured against her skin before nipping it.

She had no idea why her body complied so easily but attributed it to her feelings for him and the way he seemed to clearly know what he was doing.

A moan escaped her lips as she climaxed for the first time that night. Unable to keep her eyes open as she did so, she closed them as she allowed the pleasure to wash over her.

He helped her ride it over by continuing his ministrations until he could feel her orgasm dying down, until she stopped milking his fingers.

Then, he removed his fingers from inside her, crawling up to press his lips against hers.

Her hands fumbled to push off his pants and boxers together.

“We can stop anytime,” he murmured against her lips but she only shook her head at his words. “You say the word.”

She pulled him closer instead. “I want this, Robbie. I want you.”

Hearing her words, he positioned himself at her entrance before slowly easing into her. The sharp sting of it made her breath hitch while her nails dug into his back.

That feeling made him still inside her almost immediately. Once again, he kissed her while murmuring words of encouragement against her lips.

“You're doing so good,” he kept repeating until the discomfort eased into a pleasurable ache. “So perfect.”

He began to move only once she relaxed with a slow and deep rhythm. The pleasure built once again gradually with every thrust and every rub of his thumb against her clit.

The entire time, the rhythm stayed unhurried. Eventually, she wrapped her legs around him to pull him deeper as the pleasure got slowly more and more overwhelming.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, even if it was only minutes, her second climax washed over her, still sensitive from her previous one. It triggered his own as hips stilled against hers, his cum painting her insides.

She couldn't find it in herself to care about the possible consequences with the way he groaned her name before kissing her.

–

Afterward, they laid tangled together under his bedsheets. Their damp skin slowly cooling down while they were catching their breaths.

Robbie couldn't stop touching her, his palm massaging her back like he needed it to reassure himself that she was still there with him. That she was still breathing.

For the first time since she earned her powers, they were completely still. It felt nice for a change.

After a long silence he pressed a kiss against her hair and whispered : “I love you, y'know.”

It seemed that he was surprised by his own words when she looked up and saw his slightly widened eyes and his pink cheeks.

Still, Chiara's heartbeat fastened as she couldn't help but feel slightly dizzy.

“I love you too,” she murmured before pressing her lips against his in a soft kiss that he returned.

For once, they both felt at peace as if nothing could happen to them. As if a small blue vial wasn't hidden in his jacket if something ever went wrong with her.

[miasjoys]

I walk the line

pt 2 of dream a little dream of me

summary : after the first commercial, everything starts to change between chiara and bombsight as they learn more and more about each other

pairing : fem! self ship x bombsight (robbie)

warnings : 50s misogyny, objectification of women, toxic family and soldier boy is a warning in himself

The next commercials were slowly becoming easier to film. They served as the perfect practice for her even if she still stumbled over her marks and forgot some lines from time to time.

But Vought seemed pleased by her. They were putting so much importance on performances and were slick enough to put a good pr on a few mistakes, even the bigger ones.

To her, only bombsight seemed genuine, if she based her thoughts on him on their first encounter during that commercial. .

Maybe it was because she didn't meet the other supes yet but deep down, she knew that it wasn't the sole reason.

The words he spoke to her, the way he was truly seeing her impacted her more than she would have thought. She blamed it on the fact that he was the first person who saw her for who she really was.

Not a product. Not a failure. Not a bad daughter.

After this day, she couldn't help but notice him constantly. She was always on the lookout for him, always searching for his leather jacket whenever she was walking around the Vought's headquarters.

She didn't dare to put a name on what she was feeling yet because in all honesty, she didn't even know what those feelings truly were.

—

The current commercial set looked like a suburban street once again. At this rate, she was starting to doubt that Vought owned different sets.

She was assigned to work with Bombsight once again. The mere thought made her stomach twist, especially since they were now playing husband and wife.

“Places !” The director's voice shook her out of her thoughts, taking her right back to where she was, in the front yard of their fake family house. 

She was making float a few glasses of lemonade that she was bringing to Bombsight as he was standing near a fake telephone pole that he was supposed to repair.

“Miss your mark one time and we will restart the whole sequence, Windfall.”

Just those words were enough to both annoy Chiara and make her nervous. No matter how much she was getting used to filming, she still wanted to please Vought, to please the director.

Her annoyance did flicker through a little when the overhead lights flickered. Not enough to truly worry the crew members but enough to be noticed by Bombsight.

His gaze flickered directly toward her, studying her to make sure everything was alright (and that a storm wasn't going to destroy the entire set).

The annoyed gaze from the director didn't waver and before he could bark another reproach to her, he was interrupted.

“Bark at her again and I'm pretty sure you're going to lose a few cameras this time,” Bombsight drawled. The director was annoying him already and the filming only started.

Right behind him, stood Chiara who stared around in embarrassment. Unsure how to feel in the middle of this situation.

“It's alright,” she quickly said, her gaze darting between Bombsight and the director. “I can do it.”

“Yeah, I know,” the other supe replied to her, his words catching her off guard.

“Just breathe before they blow a gasket,” he murmured to her playfully, leaning in slightly so they wouldn't overhear him.

A small giggle escaped her lips at his words, her hands moving to cover her mouth and muffle the sound.

It was his time to be confused by his own feelings brought by her laughter.

—

Rest wasn't an option after filming, both were brought by Vought to a military fundraising gala downtown aka her very first official social event.

She remembered how gala events always looked magical in the films she watched as a little girl. The women were wearing elegant gowns while orchestras played on stage. She imagined movie stars descending staircases while receiving praises and looks of awe.

But reality was different when both her and Bombsight were forced to keep their costumes. After all, their costumes were what they embodied and without it, they would be nothing. Well, according to Vought.

In her opinion, Bombsight had it easy. His costume was identical to the ones worn by the combat pilots in the U.S. Armed Forces. It was meant to show in which faction he belonged to during the war, before becoming a supe.

Her costume was worse, way worse. The pale blue bodice hugged her waist so tightly that breathing became a challenge, and the sweetheart neckline of her costume dipped way too low in her opinion. She had to resist the constant urge of tugging it higher. The skirt stopped short and she had to keep tugging on it to feel, at least, a little comfortable. In her opinion, she was wearing something that came out of a pinup calendar. She didn’t feel like a supe at all.

The golden clouds embroidered on the cape were shimmering beneath the ballroom lights. It was beautiful but also completely humiliating.

This entire outfit made her feel displayed like some sort of toy and the men at the gala clearly agreed. She could feel the way their stares lingered, the way military officers lingered too long when she passed and the way older politicians were openly glancing down her body mid-conversation with a smile that made her skin crawl. 

One senator even placed his hand right on the spot where the skin of her back was bared while complimenting her “figure.” At this moment, she could feel her powers crawling under her skin, ready to summon a gust of wind directly into his face. Yet, she bit her cheek until she tasted blood to hold herself back. 

By the time they passed both the photographers and the journalists, her nerves felt frayed raw. The blinding flashbulbs that kept exploding didn’t help at all while she could only smile at everyone. 

She barely remembered the questions asked and the answers she replied. To be honest, she didn’t really care because every word she spoke tonight sounded artificial. It didn't feel like herself at all. 

Eventually, a few hours later, she managed to escape towards the refreshments table when the Vought handler that had been by her side the whole night ended up caught in a discussion with a businessman. She received no answers when she told him that she was going to get some champagne. 

Once there, she exhaled shakily while leaning against the wall, trying to fight off the knot that was forming inside her throat the whole night.

“That bad?” Bombsight’s voice startled her as he now stood beside her, appearing out of nowhere and holding two champagne glasses. She was so focused on calming herself down that she hadn’t even seen him approach. 

“I’m alright,” she replied automatically. She knew that it was an obvious lie and he definitely knew about it when his gaze lingered on her for a second before drifting across the ballroom and toward the men still staring at her. At this, annoyance flickered briefly across his face. 

“Sure you are,” he muttered. His tone made her glance at him properly. He didn't sound teasing, he sounded annoyed and protective. As if he was ready to throw a businessman through a wall if the older man opened his mouth.

Instead, he handed her one of the champagne glasses that he intentionally grabbed for her. 

“Thank you,” she said softly.

He shrugged casually, but his eyes flickered towards the way her fingers were once again tugging down the edge of her skirt. Something she did constantly tonight. At this thought, his jaw tightened.

“They got you dressed like a goddamn calendar girl,” he said flatly.

“I didn’t choose it.” she replied while heat rushed into her cheeks in embarrassment. 

“I know.”

Something about his answer made her chest ache. He said it without hesitation and without blame. It was almost like he was angry on her behalf but she had a hard time believing that. After all, they barely knew each other, there was no way he would get protective and attached to a rookie like her who kept messing everything up.

Before she could respond, Bombsight glanced once more toward a group of military officials openly staring nearby. His expression darkened at that.

Then, with visible annoyance, he shrugged off his brown leather flight jacket where his name was embroidered on the back. It made her blink in clear confusion, trying to understand what he was doing.

“What are you doing?”

“Put it on.”

“What?”

“Unless you enjoy half this ballroom starin’ at you like starving dogs.”

She couldn’t even process his words or how her breath hitched at because he was already draping it around her shoulders, preventing her from trying to protest.

The jacket swallowed her almost entirely. It smelt like heavy leather, smoke and cologne. It smelled like him and in a way, it was comforting. 

“There,” he muttered as he adjusted the collar once before stepping back. “That’s better.”

Something fluttered violently inside her chest but she was unable to focus on it while she was drowning in his scent and under his understanding gaze.

—

The next morning, as she returned to her brand new apartment offered by Vought, she found flowers waiting outside her door. Her brows furrowed as she crouched to search for a note tucked between the roses. 

One she found it, in a familiar handwriting, she could read : 

“We saw your billboard in Times Square. We’re proud of you. Call us.

Love, Mama & Papa”

She stared blankly at the note for a few seconds. She remembered her sixteenth birthday when her father told her that actresses always ended up lonely or disgraced when she dared to express her dream.

Or when her mother laughed after she got rejected from a theater production while telling her to “grow up” already. That she was still a foolish kid. 

But ever since Vought checks arrived every month and that her face was printed on magazines and posters. They suddenly became proud and loving parents. 

The flowers ended up in the trash as soon as she stepped inside her apartment. 

—

Her career was growing as organically as possible when she was literally Vought’s new products because a few months later, she was invited to the premiere of private’s angel new movie. 

The photographers delayed her entrance from the theater by nearly forty minutes, drowning her in constant flashes. Surprisingly, she was allowed to wear a blue and gold satin dress for this event. But she didn’t think too much of it, at least she received less hungry stares.

By the time she entered the theater, almost every seat was occupied. Well, except the one beside Bombsight. 

He was sprawled comfortably in his chair; way too casual for someone who was wearing a tailored navy suit worth more than the apartment she grew up in and that appeared on almost every ad sponsored by Vought.

She stopped beside him, sending him a confused look. “You saved me a seat?”

“Nah,” he replied immediately as if it wasn’t an obvious lie. “Nobody else wanted it.”

She scoffed in amusement as she sat down beside him, not noticing the way he looked at her or the way that the producer sitting in the row behind them looked deeply offended, as if Bombsight just cursed his entire bloodline.

Halfway through the film, Chiara ended up leaning slightly toward him. “You threatened somebody for this seat, didn’t you?” she murmured, not wanting to disturb the audience that was clearly focused on the movie playing. 

“I threatened lots of people today,” he murmured back.

A small laugh escaped her lips before she could prevent it. She didn’t care about the people hushing around her, she only cared about the way the sound made him glance sideways at her. 

And for some reason, they exchanged sideways glances and amused smiles the entire night as they completely forgot about the movie in front of them.

—

Eventually, staying late together on set became their new normal. They told themselves that it wasn’t intentional, that it just kept happening but they both knew the truth. 

Around them, the crew would dismantle sets while they lingered nearby, sharing their thoughts about almost everything that crossed their minds. Those moments felt real, and it was necessary to stay sane when you end up working for Vought. 

One night, they remained on set long after filming wrapped, the crew not having enough power to fire two of Vought’s coveted heroes from their workplace. And it was not like they were destroying the set, they were just talking. 

Half of the artificial suburban street had already been dismantled but this now usual scenery held some kind of comfort for her because she knew that she would always share this type of commercial with Bombsight.

Chiara sat cross-legged on the stairs of the porch of a pale yellow wooden house while he was leaned against the railing of the stairs, on her left, smoking lazily as the smoke curled upwards. 

“You ever think about quittin’?” he asked suddenly. The sudden question surprised her, she didn’t think he would even breach that subject with her during their talks.

“Acting?” she asked to make sure that she did understand his question. 

“This whole place.”

Her gaze ended up drifting across the dismantled set around them. He was talking about Vought and the fake happiness, the fake America they were selling to every citizen. Then, slowly, she shook her head.

“I can’t. Because if I fail now, they were right about me. About how I’m made for failure”

Bombsight frowned slightly. “Who?”

“My parents.”

The words tasted bitter on her tongue. It was normal, she guessed, after all she knew that parents were supposed to be encouraging and loving but she ended up having no luck in that department.

“My father used to leave newspapers open whenever actresses got divorced,” she admitted quietly. “He was telling me that it is what happens to women who chase attention with their silly dreams.”

Bombsight stayed silent, it seemed like he understood that it was something that deeply affected her§

“My mother said acting was embarrassing after a certain age,” she continued with a slight tremble in her voice. “Said eventually I’d stop marry somebody sensible to start a family, that it was what I should do.”

A breeze shifted unconsciously around her, her hurt at those memories manifesting once again due to her powers.

“But now I get money from Vought and now I am suddenly their little star. Suddenly they always believed in me.”

For a long moment, he said nothing as he tried to process everything and not hurt her feelings more by speaking carelessly. Then he finally muttered: “That’s a hell of a thing to do to your kid.”

Something tightened in her chest at his words, after all, it was the first time someone acknowledged what she went through and didn’t diminish it. 

—

It seemed that a few nights later, it was her turn to learn something new about Bombsight, or Robbie like he asked her to call him. 

That night, she forgot her gloves inside the soundstage after filming and only returned when everyone was supposed to already be home. At first glance, the studio seemed empty but movement near the lodges caught her attention.

She knew that she should just leave with her gloves and leave some intimacy to that person but something inside her told her that it was not the right choice to do. 

So, she tried to walk as sneakily as possible and stopped near Robbie’s opened lodge. He sat alone beneath the soft lights of the lodge, exhaustion clearly visible from her spot. It seemed like he didn’t even notice her.

She watched him tilt two small white pills into his palm before swallowing them dry with cold coffee.her nose scrunched instinctively at the thought of the cold coffee taste but the sight clearly made her worry.

It looked like he did this before, and many times at that. 

When he realized that she was there a few seconds later, he stiffened but he hid it with his usual smirk. Slowly, she learned to read behind that smirk but tonight, she felt a little clueless. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said lightly as if she didn’t walk on him seemingly taking drugs.

Chiara hesitated near the doorway. She was unsure how to proceed, after all she never dealt with drugs directly. “Like what?”

“Like I’m dying.” He leaned back in the chair lazily. “Docs give half the team these things. Keeps us awake.”

The casualness of it was unsettling. She could see how tired he truly was yet he was acting like it was all fine and she had no idea how to help him without losing the only person that truly seemed to see her. 

“You should sleep instead,” she said quietly.

That earned a soft laugh from him. He didn’t seem offended, instead, it looked like he simply accepted his fate. 

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, “you think Vought lets people like us sleep?”

For once, the petname didn’t make her heart flutter but twist her hearts in concern. His words lingering with her even when she laid in bed hours later.

—

Today was the day. She was officially meeting another member from Bombsight’s team. And it wasn’t anyone, it was Soldier Boy aka the leader and Vought’s golden child. 

She remembered how much her friends gushed about him whenever he appeared in the newspapers, in movies and even in his advertisements. Of course, she found him attractive, she had eyes after all. But weirdly, she never felt compelled to crush on the man.

Maybe it was because he was too unattainable or that her brain didn’t have enough space to think about men when she had too many things to worry about at that time.

But now that she was about to face him, she felt nervous, just like when she was about to meet Bombsight for the first time on her first commercial.

She observed the new supe when he entered the room like it belonged to him, as if everything here revolved around him. Which it kinda did. Everyone straightened whenever he walked past them, even the members of his own team. 

But Bombsight was the only one who looked more irritated than anything. 

In front of him, she could understand why her friends gushed so much about him. He was handsome but he was also charismatic. She couldn’t deny that. And he was aware of his own appeal; 

“Well, hell,” Soldier Boy drawled after spotting her standing a little awkwardly near the conference table. “So this is the new sweetheart everybody keeps talkin’ about.”

She straightened instinctively when he approached. Up close, he was intimidating and clearly scary to her. She didn’t even dare to frown in his direction. 

He took her hand before she could react and pressed a theatrical kiss against her knuckles. She cursed herself internally when she blushed, she hated being the center of attention right now, in this room full of supes and Vought executives.

“Windfall, right?”

“Yes, sir.” she replied quickly, not wanting to mess up in front of everyone;

“Aw,” he grinned. “She’s polite too.”

Across the room, Bombsight looked unimpressed and a little irritated, if one could tell by the scowl etched onto his face. And unfortunately for him, Soldier boy noticed it, an amused smile curling up his lips at the sight. 

“You been takin’ good care of her, Bombsight?” Soldier Boy asked casually while still looking at the woman in front of him.

Robbie crossed his arms, holding himself back from doing anything rash when he saw the way the other man interacted with Windfall, how he talked about her. “She ain’t a dog.”

“Touchy.”

It was obvious to everyone that the tension between them wasn’t anything new. It had been there for years but her presence seemed to fuel it. 

Soldier Boy finally released her hand but stayed standing slightly too close for both her liking and for Bombsight’s too. 

“You know,” he said lightly, “you’re prettier than your posters.”

Before she could even react to the flirty words, Robbie reacted instantly from across the room. “Jesus Christ.”

“What?” Soldier Boy asked innocently. “I’m bein’ friendly.”

“You’re bein’ a pain in my ass.”

At this, the other supe barked out a laugh. Yet, she could only focus on the man across the room as it dawned on her that he was jealous.

—

One evening, after another gala, she slipped away onto a balcony for air. She got used to it after her first one, months ago.

She felt more at ease, more comfortable in her own skin.

New York was beautiful from up here but the sight wasn't the reason why she escaped.

The reason why was already there, leaning against the railing with an unfinished cigarette between his fingers.

The wind was tugging at his blond strands that were usually brushed to perfection.

He looked tired tonight and his smirk wasn't good enough to hide it.

She moved beside him, leaning too against the railing and for a moment both stayed silent.

Then she looked at him, taking in his profile.

“You know,” she said softly, “I never liked Soldier Boy that much.”

That earned a snort from him as if he didn't believe her.

“That makes one of us.”

“No,” she corrected quietly. “I mean I never understood why everyone is gushing on him like he is the only supe, as if he doesn't have teammates.”

Silence settled once again between them but it wasn't an awkward one. It didn't need to be filled.

Bombsight slowly turned toward her and for the first time since she met him, since she got to know him, a vulnerable look crossed his face.

This time he knew that she was also truly seeing him too, just like he was seeing her since the beginning.

Then, he moved his hand so it could rest on her and somehow, that felt right.

[miasjoys]

Dream a little dream of me

summary : when an aspiring actress stumble on a newspaper advertisement by Vought, she knows it's her last chance to achieve her dream and become an actress. But the advertisement never mentioned anything about powers or end up being paired with bombsight.

pairing : fem!self ship x bombsight (robbie)

warnings : not much apart 50s misogyny, bad parents and some physical pain because of the compound v

notes : this self insert series come from me and my friends in the reggie's groupchat on twitter so it is mainly from them but feel free to read it. Also first post ever here, very scary methinks.

New York, 1952

The first thing that could be noticed about the Vought waiting room was how quiet it was. 

Almost every chair were occupied by young men and young women beneath enormous patriotic posters. On every poster were the faces of soldier boy, bombsight, private angel, torpedo, private angel and liberty accompanied by the words “America needs more heroes”.

Some of the candidates wore expensive dresses while others looked like they had spent their very last dollars on their clothes. The secretaries were moving across the rooms to accompany the candidates to the audition room.

Chiara's nose kept scrunching at the heavy scent of smoke while she smoothed invisible wrinkles from her skirt. It was a nervous habit of hers.

If her mother was here, she would probably slap her hand away and tell her how no one would cast her if she kept fidgeting. The mere memory of her family made her stomach twist.

She didn't tell them the real reason why she came to New York for this audition. The newspaper advertisement promised acting opportunities but everyone knew what they were truly searching : more supes after the success of V1. 

And Chiara needed work. Small theater roles weren't enough to pay rent, forcing her to work as a waitress in a local diner. And every audition went bad : she was too soft-spoken, too nervous and not memorable enough.

But with this, she could prove to her family that her dreams were reachable. That she could do it.

A few minutes later, a woman in a gray pencil skirt stepped into the room holding a brown clipboard.

“Chiara Adami ?” 

Her name being called made her stand up, stumbling a little as she did so. Meanwhile, the secretary looked over at her, approval flickered across her expression when she noticed the long blonde curls, the blue eyes and her soft makeup.

“Right this way.”

—

The audition room didn't really look like the usual ones she saw in the past. There was only a camera, a spotlight and a single chair in the middle.

In front of it was an observation glass where many men in white coats stood behind. It was easy to see that it wasn't about acting.

She quickly moved to the chair where a Vought executive asked her to sit.

“Miss Adami,” he said, “we’d like you to start by reading page three.”

As she took the script, her hands were trembling slightly, even fumbling a little as she opened it to page three.

The scenario was simple : a wartime housewife thanking Soldier boy for keeping the country safe.

At first, she started reading out loud with a slightly shaky voice but a few lines later her voice grew stronger. 

At the end, the room stayed silent for a few minutes. That made her anxious once again. She wondered if she did badly because in her own opinion, she wasn't that bad at acting.

Then murmurs could be heard through the glass. “Good camera face but her voice needs coaching,” said an executive while the other nodded.

Another voice then spoke up, “turn around for me, sweetheart.” The words made her gag inside but she obeyed. It felt humiliating the way those men spoke during her auditions.

Humiliation turned to confusion when strange questions followed. They asked her if she considered herself emotional, if her family had a medical history or even how she reacted under pressure.

Unease pooled in her stomach but she still replied carefully. And once again, the room turned silent.

Minutes later, a door creaked open. At the sound, she turned to see a doctor entering the room, carrying a small metal case.

Chiara's heartbeat quickened while she glanced warily at the metal case.

Yet, she didn't dare to speak up as she had no idea what was going to happen next. Then, she met the doctor's gaze as he smiled warmly at her, but it wasn't comforting in any way.

The man opened the metal case. Inside rested a syringe filled with glowing blue liquid. She stared at it with wide eyes, unease coming back stronger as if her body sensed how dangerous it was.

“You’re familiar with Compound V?” he asked.

“Everyone in America is familiar with Compound V sir,” she replied politely, unaware that in the next decades, it would become a secret.

“But I thought that it was only for military subjects,” she added, noticing the amused glances exchanged by the executives as if she said something silly.

“Times are changing,” he replied simply. The way he talked made it sound like he was discussing laboratory animals, not humans. Her instincts screamed at her to run once again, to go back to her bed and forget about Vought.

But then she thought about : the unpaid rent letter still laying on her table, her father calling her dreams childish, her mother's eyes rolling when she was rejected after every audition.

She couldn't go back to waitressing, to being a nobody that would end up marrying a man that she didn't love. She didn't want that life, not at all. She didn’t want to end up just like her mother, she had to break that cycle before she could repeat it.

The executive must have noticed the hesitation. Because his posture softened immediately while his smile turned almost predatory, he knew she was about to give in.

“Miss Adami…You have extraordinary potential.”

And it worked on her, she felt foolish for that but it worked. She allowed the nurse that just entered the room to strap her wrist to the chair.

The nurse was the only comforting face here as she moved to roll up the sleeve of her blouse while the doctor adjusted the camera lens toward her face.

It was how she realized that she was a mere study; if that failed, she would only end up becoming a lesson for the next candidate. Then her gaze drifted once again to the syringe held up by the doctor.

“You may experience discomfort,” he warned as if it wasn't the understatement of the year but she still nodded.

She could feel the needle sliding into her arm. Weirdly it felt cold and quickly, that cold was spreading in her entire body, the cold flooding every nerve in her body at once.

Pain quickly followed as if a pressure was crushing her organs. The doctor's voices were muffled as she squirmed in pain, she couldn't even hear her own screams of pain.

Then, the air changed. Every paper in the room flew off the table violently, the observation window started rattling as if it might break at any moment.

Chiara squirmed again as wind exploded outward from her body, the camera ending up flying against the wall and shattering.

Once again, the air switched, the room suddenly lacking oxygen while pressure kept building inside her.

It was both terrifying and painful. She could feel something moving beneath her skin as if the liquid was alive.

The only thing she could understand was that the doctors’ voices now sounded alarmed but still muffled.

Then, just as suddenly the pain started, everything stopped. Every floating paper drifted to the ground while the air pressure went back to normal. But the room was a mess, as if a tornado ruined it.

In the middle of it, Chiara was still strapped to the chair, trembling and sobbing. She could feel the stares, it made her want to shrink or simply pass out.

Then one executive spoke, “My God,” in an amazed tone. She then realized the stares weren't in anger but in disbelief.

“She’s regulating the atmosphere itself…” said a doctor who went to hide behind the glass. 

“What are we classifying this as?” asked the youngest executive to the older one in the room. The older man held a triumphant smile on his face at the sight of another success.

“Marketable,” he then said.

—

Three weeks later, she was renamed Windfall by Vought. Then, the costume fittings followed. But so did the voice coaching, the camera training and the media coaching.

It seemed like they didn't care about her powers. This confused her, they needed another supe yet didn't care about what made her a supe. Wasn't she supposed to help America ? Yet, she didn't dare to ask, the paycheck was enough to keep her mouth shut.

At least, doctors were still monitoring her powers. But it didn't feel that reassuring when she was told that her powers were directly related to her emotional state, they could grow violent under stress. 

Vought ignored that entirely. They didn't care that she could cause disasters, they cared about her public appeal and the money it would bring.

The first time she saw her face on a promotional poster, she felt shocked. She never imagined seeing herself on a poster but now here she was. A feeling of pride then bloomed in her chest, her dreams were coming true, even if it was in a bit of a twisted way.

That same day, her little cloud of happiness was popped by Vought. It wasn’t because she received bad news.

In fact, that was excellent news but the mere thought of it made her anxious. She was going to film her first commercial alongside bombsight.

THE bombsight.

—

The set looked like the picture perfect suburban dream. But it also looked like it was made by someone who never lived out of New York.

Picket white fences, green lawns that were way too green and extras that smiled too much. The blue sky also looked way too fake and the fake sun was almost blinding.

Crew members ran around the set, carrying cables and props while directors screamed through their megaphones.

Yet, Chiara couldn't really focus on it as she stood near the edge of the set clutching her cue cards way too tightly.

Her costume felt too tight. To be honest, she still wasn't used to the way it hugged her waist, she never wore pinup like clothes in the past.

Finally, she focused when she noticed that everyone on set straightened. The air around her felt heavier, it was like a physical pressure on her shoulders. 

It meant one thing : Bombsight arrived. 

Her gaze easily found him as he walked confidently onto set, wearing his leather brown jacket, his navy gloves were tucked beneath one arm while makeup artists chased him to fix his makeup even though he already looked perfect.

He was intimidating because compared to her, he looked completely at ease there. He looked made to be in front of cameras, and she wasn't so sure if she was made for this.

One executive hurried over immediately. “Bombsight! Wonderful. You’ll be paired with Windfall today.”

At this, he glanced towards her briefly. It was short, but enough for her to forget how to breathe.

The executive continued enthusiastically as he didn't notice the way the two stared at each other for a quick moment.

“The audiences are going to love this dynamic. War hero meets girl-next-door optimism.”

Bombsight simply hummed, sounding completely uninterested while Chiara only thought about how she wanted to disappear.

—

The filming was awful. There were no other words needed to describe how it was currently going.

The first shot was simple, Chiara only needed to walk down the sidewalk, the grocery bags suspended in the air with her powers while she smiled brightly but the moment cameras rolled, she forgot half her lines.

“Cut.” the director sighed loudly as if she was the biggest burden during his entire career.

For the second attempt, the floating paper bag slammed directly into a fake mailbox. The content of the bag flying out.

“Cut.”

At each attempt, her face kept burning hotter and hotter while the executives started getting more and more demanding.

They told her how she should be less stiff, more charming and more natural. It made her even more nervous and the air sensed it.

By the fifth take, the curtains started to flutter violently even though the entire studio was closed. Her power directly worried the crew members, scared to see one of their cameras flying off and being broken.

On another part of the set, Bombsight shot his entrance. While the fake rocket descended via wires, at the same time many alarms blared across the set.

On cue, he launched upward and landed perfectly beside her in an effortless manner. The proximity and awe was enough for Chiara to completely miss her next line.

“Not with Bombsight around,” the small voice of the child actress next to her was enough to get her out of her stupor.

She blinked as horror was slowly overtaking her brain. Once again, she made a mistake and she already imagined how Vought would fire her for being such a bad actress.

She could only think about how they wasted their previous Compound V on her.

Meanwhile, Bombsight glanced sideways when she still didn't speak her line, and in one look, he understood what was happening.

He could hear how almost everyone was talking, their voices overlapping. It was her first shoot and they were already putting too much pressure on her. It was a wonder how she didn't break down yet.

They were all saying that she needed more confidence but he truly doubted that those were the words she needed to hear right now.

“Maybe everybody quit yappin’ at her for five seconds.” He said, finally speaking up.

His voice silenced everyone while new co-star stared at him with wide eyes. After all, she surely expected him to get mad at her for making this shoot longer than it was supposed to.

“We're simply trying to help,” an executive said with a strained laugh. Clearly, he didn't want to get on the bad side of someone who could rip him apart in seconds.

“Looks more like you’re trying to scare her to death.”

With that, he walked over to Chiara, lowering his voice so the Vought employees around them wouldn't overhear.

“You know the lines ?” He asked, yet his tone held no judgments because he already knew the answer. She confirmed his thoughts when she nodded quickly. 

“Then forget everybody else.” he added as he casually adjusted the crooked bow at her collar that held her cape. It was made in translucent layers of fabric and embroidered with golden cloud patterns.

“Just talk.”

She didn't understand why, but thanks to him, something in her chest loosened and breathing started to become easier for her.

Maybe it was his words or the way he looked at her like she was a real person and not the product that was getting shaped by Vought.

She realized that it was because he was the first person to truly understand her. He went through the same thing, after all.

They started shooting again and surprisingly, the next takes went way better. The commercial was finally looking like something structured and not like the mess it was previously.

She was now walking through the streets, her floating groceries following her while humming a cheerful tone. Bombsight then landed beside as the fake enemy rocket flew overhead. They then saved the city just as dramatically.

For the final shot, the child actress looked up at the two heroes in awe and asked in wonder “Miss Windfall, aren't you scared ?”

Instinctively, she turned her head to look at the man standing next to her. The smile that stretched her lips wasn't an act, it was genuine.

“Not with Bombsight around.”

On cue, he smirked towards the camera lens that was focused on them while he rubbed his neck as if he truly was getting by her attention.

“Aw, shucks,” he said good-naturedly.

It was needless to say that executives loved this take. The smiles on their faces were enough to finally make Chiara relax completely.

But it seemed like the whole universe decided to rally against her because while everyone started to arrange the set, one assistant dropped a heavy lighting stand.

The crashing sound made her jump violently, taking her by surprise. Of course, her powers followed directly as wind bursted onto the set.

Scripts flew everywhere while the curtains were literally ripped away from the fake houses. A cameraman tripped over the cables on the ground as he tried to run away.

“I'm sorry,” she kept mumbling in pure panic. Her own powers were acting up and yet she felt completely helpless. In a way, she felt even more vulnerable now that she was a supe.

While almost everyone on set backed away from her, Bombsight did the opposite. He went toward her, not caring about how strong the wind was, about how his hair looked like a pure mess now and that the wind kept tearing at his leather coat.

When he finally stood in front of her, she could only send him a helpless look. Her own powers weren't listening to her and she didn't know how to control it. 

“I can't stop it,” she murmured in a shaky tone while anxiety clawed at her chest.

“Yeah, you can,” he replied. Compared to her, his voice was calm. The difference between them was almost infuriating as she craved to be more like that.

Then, she felt his gloved hand wrap around her wrist and his thumb started to rub the inside of her wrist in a soothing way.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” he murmured. The nickname slipped naturally as if they had known each other for years.

Her breath hitched at his words but it was followed by a shaky inhale as she tried to focus on his soothing touch. The winds slowly weakened and at the next inhale, the scripts and curtains drifted down.

The set was completely silent as everyone on set looked at her nervously. Yet, Bombsight was the only one who didn't look at her like a ticking bomb.

Instead, he looked down at her with a curious look as if she was something he didn't expect.

__ 

The fake suburban street looked destroyed. The clothes used as laundry props were thrown across the street and some lights were completely shattered.

The only people left on set were the exhausted crew members who still had to clean everything.

Chiara decided to stay too. Bombsight noticed this after he left his lodge. He spent the last thirty minutes there having to listen to a Vought executive talking about his planning for the next few weeks.

The fact she was still there was unusual. Normally, the new talents vanished directly once the filming was done, dragged away by Vought or already too haughty to care about the poor crew members.

But she remained there, following the different crew members to whom she apologized constantly.

Curious about what he was seeing, he decided to stay there for a few more minutes so he could keep watching. He leaned slightly against a fake white fence as he plucked out a cigarette from a small metal case.

She was now crouched beside one of the assistants, gathering scattered papers with them. 

“Miss Windfall, you don’t gotta—” the assistant started nervously. They knew how Vought could act up if they saw their precious new product doing mundane tasks.

“Chiara,” she corrected automatically without even thinking about her own words.

She didn't even notice the startled look from the assistant.

Instead, she reached upwards cautiously and a soft current of air followed, lifting the last papers gently off the floor and depositing them back on the nearby table. This time, she managed to control her powers.

“Thank you,” the assistant said quietly and the effect was immediate as Chiara brightened directly as if she was proud of doing something so basic.

At the sight, he frowned slightly around his cigarette. It was weird to him but he was now way too curious to stop observing what was happening.

Across the set, she moved to approach one of the technicians who tried to untangle cables.

“Wait, let me help, mister Feldman.”

At the sound of her voice, the older man stiffened visibly. Her expression dimmed at that, she knew that people were already afraid of her.

But then, she forced another smile and still decided to help him. A small breeze lifted the heavier cable carefully off the ground so the technician could reposition it easily.

“There,” she said softly. “Is that alright?” she looked at the man expectantly, hoping that she did good and that she didn't make everything worse.

“Yeah…thank you, miss.” the man replied with a wary tone but he still seemed grateful for the help. In turn, her smile stretched as she looked clearly relieved.

Bombsight crushed the ash from his cigarette thoughtfully as his gaze stayed stuck on her while she kept moving through the set. He noticed the way she remembered everybody on set calling them by names as she truly tried to get acquainted with them.

The scene got interesting again when one of the makeup girls accidentally dropped a tray of powder compacts near her. The powder made her sneeze loudly as it bursted towards her face.

Clouds of powder erupted around her at the same time, the makeup artists and herself ending up covered in beige powders. It was easier to see the impact on their clothes and hair. Chiara blinked in confusion at the sight of the shocked woman next to her as she understood that now, even her sneeze made her powers act up. 

“Oh my God– I’m sorry–” she started, wanting to apologize to the poor woman who clearly wore brand new clothes for her work today. Now her red dress was covered in beige powder. 

But another sneeze escaped her before she could even try to prevent it. This time, a gust of wind made the hat of a poor assistant fly away. The other crew members didn’t take any step back this time. Sure, her powers were acting up, but compared to previously, it wasn’t as violent. 

But Chiara still covered her nose with her hand as if she could physically hold back any potential sneeze that threatened to escape her.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, her face growing red with embarrassment. “The powder just–” but she was quickly interrupted by the makeup girl who looked more guilty than scared by the supe next to her. 

“No, miss, it was my fault—” the other woman said and it seemed to be enough for the supe to calm down a little as her face went from a bright to a more gentle pink. 

Bombsight finally decided to move as he pushed himself off the fake white fence, crushing the rest of his cigarette under his boots. Even if people didn’t look afraid of Windfall right now, one of the assistants could end up messing everything up by saying something stupid. 

He stopped beside her, taking in the way she was now covered in powder. But weirdly, it fitted her. It made her look more human and less like a Voughts product. 

“That all you got? Couple sneezes?” he asked her with an amused smirk while she met his gaze with a look of disbelief at his words. The pink coloring once again her cheeks. 

“Who knows what could have happened if I kept sneezing. I already broke a camera last time.” 

“And Jenkins blew up a prop truck last month yet nobody threatened to exorcise or fire him.” 

At his words, a startled laugh slipped from her lips before she could even prevent it. And it seemed that even her positive emotions affected her powers as a soft breeze went between them. 

Noticing how her powers reacted once again to her emotions, she looked down in slight embarrassment. She already felt like she was an open book, but now, it felt way worse. She was easier to read now.

Yet, he couldn’t help but find that reaction cute and he hated that realization as soon as it crossed his mind. Because she was the perfect example of what Vought was trying to produce.

She was the sweet shy girl next door while he was the war hero. The perfect cliché American romance that could be seen in every recent movie. He should have known that Vought had prepared a PR relationship for one of them. 

But then he remembered how she acted since the beginning of filming. She had been nervous the whole time, sure, but she also remembered every crew member’s name and she looked terrified by her own powers. 

Even though she was being shaped into a product, she was still behaving like a person and he doubted that Vought would truly be able to change this. This new realisation made something shift inside him.

He couldn’t truly name it yet but he did know that he wanted to get to know her better. 

[riordans]

cant take my eyes off you

summary: a girl gets assigned to help tutor sam, only he ends up paying attention to her instead of the work

pairing: fem!self ship x sam riordan

warnings: none! just pure fluff and pining lmao. i dont give my girl a name, i only just she and her

notes: hii so welcome to my jam filled brain (their ship name) im writing this for reggies cousins gc but feel free to enjoy as well!! bring back self shipping 2026!!! ill probably be doing multiple imagines about my babies i love them sooo dearly <3 i made a playlist for them which you can check out here, and i also made a pinterest board for them which you can also check out here ! i hope you all enjoy <3 (this is my second time writing this cause my draft fucked uppp earlier rip)

likes/reblogs/comments appreciated!! ꨄ︎

♡

She was always aware of the boy called Sam Riordan. One night, his brother, Luke, had told her all about him and their family. She was sure that he hadn't told her everything he knew but she wasn't going to push it. After Luke died, it shocked the whole campus. She wasn't as close to him as their other friends were, but after the conversation they had together, she still spent her nights awake regretting that they hadn't gotten closer. This is why she was on her way to the library to help the boy she once swore she would protect. For Luke, she said.

She walked through the big wooden doors and looked around the room. It was full with students either sat at tables or wandering down the isles where the books were displayed. She headed towards an empty table near the corner of the room which is where she would hope nobody would distract them. She was a smart student. Definitely not the smartest, but she had some common sense. She could easily tutor someone like Sam who probably didn't know much and needed to learn about the world.

"Hey"

This voice made her practically jump out of her seat, yelping. She held her hand on her chest and looked around as multiple students were staring at her. She looked up at the voice and sighed.

"Jesus... you... you scared the shit out of me!" She yelled.

He pulled out the chair next to her, sitting down shrugging.

Her heart rate started to slow down after a minute and she rested her hands on the table. "Sorry... I.. I didn't mean to yell. You just scared me"

Sam furrowed his eyebrows at her. "Why are you apologising? You haven't done anything bad." He reassured.

She smiled softly at him, the pair looking into each others eyes.

"Um... ahem, okay.." She quickly coughed out of the trance. "So.. I need to teach you stuff, I guess?" She reached into her bag to pull out a laptop and books, and a pen for him to use. She handed him a notebook and he scribbled out "Sam R" on the front of it. She noticed how he kept tracing out the letters to make it seem neater, however it only made it worse.

"Okay, Sam, do you know anything about Shakespeare?" She asked him. He was currently doodling all over his hands and arms, not paying attention.

"Uhh.. who?" He replied, confused.

"Shakespeare? The poet? Like.. world famous..."

Sam shrugged.

She nodded. "Okay, that's fine.. we've got a lot to do... its fine.. totally fine." She sighed, reaching for the book on the table. "You don't know Romeo & Juliet?"

Sam shook his head.

She stared at him in disbelief and she put her head in her hands, sighing again.

"Look Sam, I know you don't wanna be here, but I need this. So please just do this for me. Even if nothing goes in, I just want you to listen." She mumbled to him.

This made Sam look up slowly. His eyes softened and he put the pen down.

"Thank you" She smiled at him.

Over the next hour, she was teaching Sam all about Shakespeare and his work, specifically Romeo & Juliet. She was explaining how if she was ever in that situation she would probably kill herself, before realising that's literally the plot of the story and now she's realising how she has been waffling about this story for over an hour now.

"Sorry.. I talk way too much" She slumped in her seat awkwardly.

However, Sam didn't notice. He wasn't paying attention to anything she was saying. He was too busy studying her. Watching her face light up at the mention of this book was so important to him. The way she her cheeks turned a shade of pink every time she smiled was interesting, he had never seen this before, and he sure as hell didn't want it to be the last time he ever saw her smile like that.

"No... it's good. Carry on."

She blushed out of awkwardness, before looking up at the clock. Her eyes widened when she realised the time and how long she had actually been rambling for.

"Shit... I... I have to go to class, it's almost 3" She quickly packed away all her things. "Uh.. you can keep that, to make notes or whatever" She patted the notebook in front of Sam. "Oh, and the pen too. It's my favourite pen, so please look after it."

Sam nodded slightly, putting the pen delicately in his pocket. She stood up and was about to leave, before she saw Sam still sat down. "Are you.. just gonna stay there?"

He said nothing, only watching her. Taking all her features in. He needed to know more about the person that he thought was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life.

She nodded, before saying bye and walking away. She kept looking back at him, to see him still staring at her. As she walked away, she thought about Sam. He was the most emotionless person she had ever met, however she could see he was full of emotions. She knew that he wasn't really listening. Of course she knew that. But she could tell that he cared. He cared that he wanted to make her happy, which is why he wasn't at least purposefully pretending to not care. He really was the most interesting person she had ever met.

[riordans]

human nature

summary: sam hates seeing his favourite girl upset so he consoles her :(((((

pairings: sam riordan x fem!oc

warnings: nonee! fluffy sam my beloved <3

notes: i love my cutie pies so much:’)) these imagines are really short sorry im such a slow writer so it would probably take days to write a normal sized one LOL

michael jackson - human nature 🎶

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A loud thud filled the room startling the girl. She lifted her head from her pillow to see her best friend had fallen into her dorm room from the window. He quickly jumped up, brushing dirt off his clothes. Sam looked at her, grinning, before realising you weren’t smiling back at him. His face fell, before rushing over to her.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sam knelt by the side of her bed, studying her expression. He noticed that your eyes were red and puffy — no doubt from crying for hours. “Why didn’t you call me? What’s going on?” Sam’s hand brushed through her hair, his eyes softening. He hated seeing her like this, he needed to make her feel better desperately.

She shrugged, making his heart break.

“Come on, let’s go on a walk.” Sam muttered to her, his hand still on her hair. She groaned, making him chuckle. “Come onnn, it’s quiet outside. Nobody around.” He shook her slightly. When she didn’t reply he rested his chin on the bed before looking around for ideas. He spotted her skateboard in the corner of the room, grinning.

“I’ll let you teach me how to skate if you get up.” At these words, she opened one eye. Sam smiled. “There she isss, come on, let’s go!” He bounced up, jumping to grab her board.

She got out of bed groggily, rubbing her eyes as she did so.

“You’re lucky my roommate isn’t here, she’d probably have killed you by now” She mumbled to him. Sam laughed. “Yeah.. she scares me” She snorted at him, making him smile. He had missed that laugh immensely.

The pair walked out of the dorm room and Sam almost instantly wrapped an arm around her shoulder, making her instinctively lean into him. They walked out of the building towards the lightly lit quad, the only sounds around them being the quiet hum of the lightbulbs flickering and the occasional cricket.

Sam had walked her over to a bench and sat her down. He placed her skateboard on the floor, his feet attaching to it as he sat down.

"Its nice, isn't it?" Sam exclaimed, looking up at the stars in the sky. She mimicked his behaviour, looking up. She nodded, smiling.

Sam turned his gaze away from the sky, now looking at her. He loved the way the moon made her eyes glisten, it really was the most beautiful thing about her. He constantly compared her to the moon in his mind, her beauty was something like he had never seen before. He moved his gaze down from her eyes to her lips. Oh how he badly wanted to kiss them. There was an almost sort of enchanting softness that really invited him towards them, he really wanted to make them his.

"You're staring" She murmured, her eyes not leaving the stars in the sky. "You like to watch me, don't you?" She turned her head towards him, tilting her head slightly.

Sam blushed, looking away instantly. "Sorry"

"I like it" She mumbled, making Sam look straight back towards her. "Why? He asked, curious.

She only smiled, standing up. "Come on, you said I can teach you to skate".

Sam smirked. "Help me balance then" He reached his arms out for her to hold. She took his hands as he slowly stood up onto the board, his body struggling slightly. She laughed as he wobbled, almost falling over.

"Your balance is so bad" She laughed, making Sam shake his head. "Its not easy! I don't know how you do this without holding onto something, it's impossible!" He sulked.

"Look just..." She hesitated before grabbing his hands and placing them down on her waist. "Just, hold on.. it's easy." Sam's eyes had instantly widened and his body became almost as stiff as the skateboard he was on. This was a situation he NEVER thought he'd be in, but it sure as hell is happening right now and all he needs to do is not panic and lose his balance and-

*thud*

Sam lost his balance. And where had he ended up? That's right. On top of her. His face inches away from hers. This is quite possibly the most cliché, cheesy thing of all time. Not that he had watched many romcoms, all he watched was Star Wars. He did not like Star Wars, he was all about Star Trek, but she loved it. And anything she liked, he instantly liked as well. Anything to keep his favourite girl happy.

"You're staring again" She mumbled, breaking him out his trance. Sam smiled. "I know" His eyes flickered from her eyes to her lips. "I love how expressive your lips are, it really adds to your smile." Her face turned a bright shade of red, her gaze now flickering to his lips.

"Can I kiss you? Please?" He murmured, almost begging. His hand reached to move a loose hair out of her face, just an excuse to admire her beauty even more.

She nodded, and with no hesitation, Sam leant his head down and pressed his lips onto hers. He could NOT believe this was his situation right now. He was kissing his best friend? His best friend that he is in love with? How is he even doing this?

She pulled away slowly, her hands reaching to stroke his face.

"W-was that okay?" Sam stuttered. He really didn't want to mess this up.

She smiled, nodding.

"It was everything I could've wanted, Sam"

[ghostfaceaddams]

@blast108 on twitter created this and I thought I'd spread awareness of it to here! They also have a twitter account for this specific event and it's @JackieNatWeek so check out more on there. I'm going to attempt to participate in this fic wise on days 1, 2, 5, 6, and 7 but we'll see what writer's block has to say ;/

So I think anyone can join and do whatever; fics, fanart, edits, etc. For these prompts. Can't wait to see what everyone else does. I am so excited honestly.

(I will also try to get back to my JackieLot fic and write more of it.)

[ghostfaceaddams]

hdwgh?iutkysw | chapter two

summary: A (not so) normal day school for Lottie and Jackie ending with practice. Also, a peak into protective Lottie mode.

warnings: 18+, some making out, cussing, mention of blood and death, I think that's it.

word count: 3,550

a/n: Going to see The Warning movie with my brother today! Hope you all enjoy this second chapter. Feel free to leave a comment or reblog!

previous part | series masterlist | next part

Jackie tastes like cherry chapstick when they kiss both times, at ages 13 and 15. The first time they’re laying down so that they’re the same height. Lottie’s bangs keep getting in her eyes though, and Jackie’s braces get caught on her lips, causing them to bleed. It’s awkward and Jackie apologizes profusely for it. The girl was on the verge of tears feeling awful about the blood and worrying that Lottie would no longer want to be her friend anymore. But then, in a bout of hysteria, Lottie had wiped the blood off of her lip with her thumb and smeared it on the corner of Jackie’s mouth. 

Lottie had giggled. “Relax, Jax. We’re still best friends.” 

Jackie had stared at Lottie before blushing and nervously licking at the blood. Even then Jackie had stirred up something primal inside of Lottie. 

The second time they practice kissing it goes a lot more smoothly. They’re in Lottie’s bedroom instead of Jackie’s this time. They go against laying down because they know that standing is more realistic, and Jackie should be prepared in case her future boyfriend (Lottie feels like gagging) is tall. (“And you need to be prepared to show some humility for your future boyfriend, Lot.” Jackie had smirked in that teasing way of hers that left Lottie feeling like the sun was kissing her skin after getting out of the water.) 

It was after school so Jackie still had makeup on, but Lottie could see the freckles buried underneath due to their proximity. Her strong hands had rested on Jackie’s sexy hips. Even at fifteen-years-old Lottie was obsessed with Jackie’s hips. The way they curved. Her grip was firm to soothe Jackie (and a bit because of how excited Lottie was and didn’t want this moment to run away from her). Her dark brown eyes stared steadfast into Jackie’s bug eyes. Jackie’s eyes never left Lottie’s flawless face, but they kept skittering all over with nerves. They hadn’t even kissed yet and Jackie was already breathing heavily. 

Jackie had her arms draped around Lottie’s neck to keep the taller girl hunched down a little. This caused them to be so close, and it electrified this intimacy that always existed between the two. They were sharing space and swapping air. The moment was poetic. 

Feeling bold, Lottie had been the one to press her lips to Jackie’s. Lottie liked to project to the world that she was this small thing. Despite her gangly limbs and voluminous hair, she tried to shrink herself. It wasn’t like she was self-conscious or anything, she just liked how easy it was to not be in the spotlight. She didn’t like expectations, especially when she could never figure out what exactly her parents expected of her. But when she was alone with someone like this, she didn’t mind flaunting her security in herself. Besides, she really liked making people feel good. 

Neither of them had moved their lips for a few seconds because they were both just getting used to the feel of things. Lottie wondered if every human being’s lips were this soft or if it was just a woman thing (or just a Jackie thing). Jackie tasted like the gum she had been chewing earlier in class and the cherry chapstick she was constantly reapplying. Lottie tasted like black raspberry and it was addicting. 

Hesitantly, Jackie pressed her lips more firmly to Lottie’s. Taking a hint, Lottie began to experimentally massage her lips against Jackie’s. It was actually…not bad! Lottie was enjoying herself. When Jackie’s fingers brushed the back of Lottie’s hair and had angled her face back just an inch, Lottie’s body surged up and her breath scraped its way out her mouth. That’s when her tongue slipped past Jackie’s glistening lips and into her warm mouth. Even with her eyes closed, Jackie’s eyes had widened and her eyebrows rose. She made a slight noise of pleased shock and that just roused Lottie’s need to keep pleasing her Jackie. Lottie massaged her warm hands against Jackie’s hips and slid around to the small of her back, bringing her closer to Lottie. Now they were exchanging body heat, and Lottie could feel the energy vibrating and bouncing off of Jackie’s body. It was tantalizing and euphoric in the way that could only be described as holy. 

As Lottie’s tongue explored Jackie’s mouth and she handled the shorter girl with great care, Jackie had moaned. That sent such a rush to Lottie’s hair that she started to feel woozy. Then Jackie’s fingers had slid into Lottie’s thick curls and- 

That had been the end. 

Lottie can still taste Jackie on her tongue like it was yesterday. Somehow, even though that was back when she was an alive human, her new heightened senses polished that memory (and every pre-vampirism memory). It made her long to kiss Jackie again even worse. Everything was worse now. 

She smoothed out her face as she looked over at Jackie. She was in the desk next to her, the aisle separating them. Jackie was looking at the front of the classroom but in her hand was a folded piece of paper. Swallowing, Lottie took it before Professeure Nelisse could notice and gently splayed the paper on her desk. She handled everything of Jackie’s with reverence, not just the teenager herself. Her nimble fingers unfolded the piece of paper and read the neatly written note on it. 

There’s a party this weekend - Yellowjackets invited. 

Lottie glanced over at Jackie. Jackie who was now sitting upright like the prim and proper girl her parents raised. Gazing at those shoulders and collarbone, Lottie understood why shoulders had to be covered in some schools. Jackie’s hair was perfectly wavy over her shoulders and framed her charming face. Even in class when everyone was focused on the lesson, she had a slight charming smile on her lips to seem inviting and approachable (just like her parents wanted her to be). She had that confident air surrounding her which Lottie knew was a ploy. 

Jackie was sitting and acting like Lottie hadn’t been shutting her out for almost two months now. She was acting as if last week Lottie hadn’t told her to get out of her room. It was like everything was the same as it had always been. But things would never be the same again and Lottie wished she could just tell Jackie that. But how? 

Are you ordering me to go or asking, Captain? Lottie wrote and passed back to Jackie. 

Without even flexing a facial muscle, Jackie plucked the fingers from Lottie’s long ones. She barely dipped her head down to read the note. Lottie felt victorious when she saw the genuine grin on Jackie’s face. The one full of amusement and affection that Jackie only ever had for her teammates. Instead of listening to their teacher, Lottie watched Jackie write and return the note. Gosh, everything Jackie Taylor did amazed Lottie. It was funny, considering Jackie scrutinized everything she did and was never satisfied with herself. Lottie wished Jackie would listen to her when she illustrated how wonderful of a human being she was. 

Lottie unfolded the paper and read the response under hers. 

Asking. It would show team unity if everyone went, and I’d really just like to see you. I miss you. 

Lottie looked up. Jackie missed her, of course she did. They did everything together and loved each other to the fullest capacity a human being could love another. They were best friends and Lottie had been neglecting Jackie. So of course she was missed. She expected this. And yet it still hit her like that buffet table had under the water. She could feel her sternum shattering and ribs splintering all over again. The water was filling her bruised lungs and her head felt like it was about to explode like a white beam. 

Swallowing even though she didn’t need to, Lottie hastily scribbled her answer and passed it back over to her team captain. It was a simple word, but Lottie never really needed to be explicit when it came to Jackie. They could sit in silence and never say a word and still hold a conversation. (Just not lately. Not about Lottie’s new identity.) 

Okay. 

When Jackie smiled, Lottie knew she made the right decision. Even if the party turned to shit, it would be worth seeing Jackie smile. 

It was Thursday, the day before the party. The Yellowjackets were hard at work on the pitch in their gray WHS Yellow Jackets shirts and black or blue shorts. Lottie’s curls were in their usual pigtails and were bouncing around as she darted this way and that. Her brain was pulsing and tensing around her skull as she tried to focus on not running too fast or not kicking too hard. Even though vampires couldn’t sweat, she felt like she was. She could still remember that gross, yucky feeling. She never would’ve thought that she would miss sweating. 

They were competing in a scrimmage against the JV team. They practiced three times a week and had a game every Friday. One out of their three practices was a scrimmage. Usually the star players would win, but there were a few times when it was a close match and even fewer times when JV won. Mari and Akilah were really the only two good players on JV and Lottie wished one of them could replace her. But again, there was no way she could quit soccer. As much as it would ease her mind four out of seven days of the week, that reprieve would just never come. 

Today was one of the rare days where JV was in the lead. That usually only happened when Natalie was hungover and Van was getting distracted by Taissa. But Taissa and Shauna were attempting to block out Ally, and Lottie was of course caught up in her own mind of acting human enough. Coach Martinez was visibly upset on the sidelines and it was frizzing that constant anxiety in the pit of Jackie’s stomach. Even preoccupied in her own mind, a piece of Lottie was always conscientious of her dear captain. She knew how desperate Jackie was to please and that she was trying to remain optimistic. Coach Scott was at least trying to shout words of encouragement instead of anger like Coach Martinez. And Misty was chanting “BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ” while clapping.

“Tai!” Jackie held up her arm in signal for Taissa to pass the ball. 

Taissa was all too eager to pass the ball to anyone other than Ally. As Jackie sped up to intercept the ball, this blonde from JV barrelled right into Jackie. For the first time since the first two days after her transition, Lottie lost control. One second she was blocking Mari and the next she was shoving the curly haired blonde who had sent their captain to the ground. Somehow it still wasn’t all of Lottie’s power, but Melissa still landed hard on her ass and shouted in pain. Lottie could feel every part of her body filling and thickening with power, fueled by her protective instincts. Her fangs were aching and her blood started to whistle. 

The rest of the team quickly ran over to diffuse the situation. Jackie was panting a little as she sat up, her hair a little messy and her face slightly scrunched up. Her neck already had to strain to look up at Lottie when she was standing, and now she was getting a kink in her neck. With Lottie standing to her maximum height and baring her muscles like some white night, and the sun creeping behind her dark hair like some halo, Lottie looked like…a Goddess. The other girl, the one who had slammed into Jackie, was staring up at Lottie with blue eyes full of anger but fear and was cradling her shoulder. 

Lottie glared down at the girl ferociously. “What the hell? It’s a scrimmage, not a real game!” 

“I was just-” 

“Leave her alone!” Whoever said that had attempted to push Lottie, but Lottie didn’t budge. Her furrowed eyebrows slowly evened out and her tense cheeks lowered. Sure, she was a hell of a lot shorter than Lottie, but Lottie didn’t even physically react to the shove. And now Lottie was glaring at her. 

“Gen, back up.” Shauna said to the girl who had pushed Lottie. 

Gen obeyed but didn’t seem happy about it. She glared halfheartedly before going to the girl on the ground. 

“What were you thinking, Melissa?” Taissa directed the girl who had dared to hurt Jackie Taylor. 

Now Melissa was looking up at Taissa instead of Lottie. Lottie who was standing in front of Jackie like some guard dog and was glaring like a mountain lion ready to pounce on its prey. Shauna furrowed her eyebrows at the almost feral look darkening Lottie’s usually angelic features. Mari and Akilah shared a look and decided best to stay out of it. Meanwhile, Natalie was helping Jackie up and looking over her. 

Good, Lottie thought. The only other person she trusted to be around Jackie right now and make sure she was actually okay was Natalie. She didn’t even trust Shauna with Jackie, but that was another foe for another day. 

“I was trying to get the ball! That’s our goal, right?” Melissa defended herself.

“Yeah but you don’t ram into our team captain like a fucking bull!” Lottie snapped. 

One thing about Lottie Matthews was that she never got confrontational or talked shit about someone unless they deserved it. And boy did this Melissa JV chick deserve her rage. 

“It was an accident, she got a little overzealous.” Shauna tried to defend. 

Now Lottie was glaring at Shauna. Unlike Gen who was a coward or Melissa who was a coward that tried to act tough, Shauna wasn’t afraid of Lottie. She started back just as steadily and heatedly.

“Oh shit.” Van said and Taissa immediately put herself in-between Lottie and Shauna. 

That’s when Coach Martinez finally blew his fucking whistle and called an end to practice. 

“Guys, cut this shit out.” Taissa said to Shauna and Lottie before looking over at their team captain. “Jack, you good?” 

Jackie nodded her head, still a little winded. “Yeah, I’m good.” 

God, Jackie didn’t sound afraid or mad. But she sounded sad and small. It just rejuvenated that anger burning out of control inside of Lottie. She wanted to break Melissa’s kneecaps and make sure she could never run across the soccer field to Jackie ever again. She wanted to rip Shauna’s tongue out for daring to defend someone against Jackie. And she just wanted that Gen girl to go away. She wanted to hurt whoever hurt Jackie. 

Right before her fangs and talons could extract, before her eyes could turn red, she felt Jackie’s hand in hers. Oh. Sweet relief. 

Lottie snapped her head over and down so fast that she would’ve gotten whiplash if she was still a human being. Those glowing eyes softened and her tense body loosened. The roaring of her blood quieted and the fire in her mind was extinguished. Her dead heart started to beat again. Her skin felt like it was being lathered in the aura of Jackie Taylor. Her cool hand wrapped around Jackie’s warm one and squeezed. She could smell the blood under Jackie’s palm and feel her heartbeat. Jackie was still alive. She was unharmed. That bitch had knocked her down and she got right back up. 

Jackie was okay. It felt like Lottie could breathe again. 

“I’m alright, Lot. I’ve been thrown by worse.” Jackie reassured her.    

Which was true, and almost reignited that protective wildfire. But those bug eyes wrapped around Lottie like the universe. Lottie felt so small in the best way possible when Jackie looked at her. Like Jackie was all the beauty and power and complexity of the universe. Everything about her being was so vast and special. And she got to bask in that. Lottie got to be privy to the universe’s attention. How could you not be devoted to such a person? 

Lottie wanted to get on her knees and swear fealty to Jackie. She wanted to spend the rest of her eternal life just worshipping Jackie. Every morning she would tell Jackie she loved her and every night she would hold her. She would spend every second telling Jackie how beautiful and wonderful and special and important she was. She would always protect Jackie and make sure she was happy. She would never let anything negative into Jackie’s life ever again, she would be an impenetrable wall around Jackie Taylor. 

But she didn’t do any of that. Jesus. Calm down, Matthews. She told herself. 

Laura Lee checked on Melissa before letting her and the rest of the JV squad head inside to the locker room. Misty and Coach Scott started picking up cones and whatnot. Taissa waited on Shauna to head towards the locker room, and Van waited on Tai. Then it was just Lottie, Jackie, Natalie, and Laura Lee checking on Jackie. 

“That was dramatic.” Jackie quipped. 

Nat scoffed in agreement. Lottie narrowed her eyes, not agreeing with the pair.

“Too intense for me!” Laura Lee agreed in a different manner. “Are you okay, Jackie?”

Okay, Nat isn’t the only person Lottie trusted with Jackie. She definitely trusted Laura Lee as well. And at least Laura Lee didn’t sometimes check out Jackie or roll her eyes before kissing her during spin the bottle. (Sure, Natalie was dating Misty and Jackie was straight, and Jackie didn’t belong to Lottie or anything. And she loved Natalie. But still…)

“I’m fine, Laura Lee. Just stained my clothes, but getting dirty is a part of sports!” Jackie said brightly. 

That brightness was so contagious even when it was fake. It kissed Lottie’s soul and electrified her body. 

Jackie looked up and her sweet smile turned brighter. “What?”

Lottie realized she was staring. She was always staring at Jackie, but she was always able to hide it until now. Laura Lee smiled innocently with her mouth closed, looking between the two like she was watching a romcom. Nat chuckled and placed her hand on Laura Lee’s shoulder. 

“Let’s help Misty and Coach Scott pick up.” Natalie’s raspy voice said to Laura Lee. 

Lottie stared after the two blondes with adorably furrowed brows. What was that about? Why had Laura Lee been looking at them like that and why was Natalie pulling her away like she knew something? 

“Err, Lottie Matthews. Come in, Lottie Matthews.” Jackie said in this adorable, serious radio voice. 

Lottie looked back at Jackie and stopped breathing (even though she already was not breathing) at Jackie’s twinkling eyes and dreamy smile. 

“You didn’t answer me.” 

Oh, right. “Sorry. I was just looking to make sure you were okay - for real. Sometimes you lie to just not worry others.” Although it wasn’t about worrying others that Jackie would lie. She would lie about her health because she didn’t want to be a burden. They both knew that and understood that Lottie didn’t need to say it.    

Jackie exhaled a breath and playfully punched Lottie on the arm. Lottie had to remind herself to move a smidge at the impact. 

“Please, that JV wannabe barely touched me. I was just putting on a show.”

“Oh, yeah? Theatre is in the auditorium ya know. Out here is for soccer.” 

“Oh I didn’t know that.” Jackie grinned, and Lottie grinned back. 

It was just the two of them on the pitch now and they were just grinning at each other. Everyone else was inside, in their office or locker room or cars driving home. No one else but the elements and animals were privy to this playful moment between the two best friends. Except was it playful or flirtatious? 

That startled Lottie and dampened her grin a little. Was Jackie flirting with her? Sure, that was kind of just in Jackie’s nature. She never led anyone on or meant any harm by it. She’d done it so many times with Lottie before that Lottie never thought about it. But this time felt different. Or did it always feel this way and Lottie was just now noticing? But surely Lottie would’ve noticed before, because she’s always so in tuned to Jackie and wanting of something romantic with her. Gosh, none of it even mattered. She was supposed to be distancing herself from Jackie. She’d been doing so well until she kicked Jackie out of her room over a week ago. 

Lottie Matthews was so weak when it came to Jackie Taylor. And yet, also so strong. 

“I stink, and so do you. We should probably get cleaned up.” Lottie says, putting an end to the playful-slash-maybe-actually-flirtatious moment. 

Jackie didn’t seem too disappointed by the moment ending, so Lottie figured it must’ve all just been in her head and it truly was a playful moment. That wouldn’t have been the first time something was all in Lottie’s head. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” Jackie agreed.

Despite Lottie being the one to mention needing to head in, she waited for Jackie to start walking first. And then she followed, like always.   

[ghostfaceaddams]

hdwgh?iutkysw | chapter one

summary: lottie does some reflecting.

warnings: 18+, cussing, mention of death, mention of blood.

word count: 5,387

a/n: I'm already over 1,000 words into chapter four but have so many other fic ideas, so let's hope I can stay consistent with this fic. This is also my baby, so I hope you all ejoy!

series masterlist | next part

Ever since Jacqueline Taylor was five-years-old she had known Charlotte Matthews. The girl with the soda canned curl hair and limbs that were always longer than the rest of her. They had met at the daycare center located inside of Wiskayok country club as their parents pretended they were good at tennis or drove golf carts and ate weird, exotic, expensive food. They mixed well because Lottie (Charlotte) was quiet and Jackie (Jacqeline) had a knack for acting in control when she felt helpless. Over time, when they both grew into their looks and accumulated other friends, Lottie became more confident and outgoing, but she still always listened to Jackie. 

Which felt like fate, considering Jackie was the team captain of the girls soccer team at Wiskayok High School. The team was called the Yellowjackets and their uniforms were silky blue, paid for by both of their parents. Money was how the Matthews showed their “love” for Lottie and the Taylor’s just liked to show off. The blue and yellow always complimented Jackie’s hazel, bug eyes and the colors were delicious for Lottie’s olive complexion. Jackie was #9 and Lottie was #5, and they were always in line with each other for pep rallies. 

While Shauna Shipman was Jackie’s second longest friend and the brunette’s guard dog, she was considered Jackie’s best friend. Lottie never seemed to mind Jackie’s lack of correction since she knew in her heart that she would always be Jackie’s first. Her first friend, her first confidant, her first kiss. 

They had only been 13 and it was awkward since neither of them really knew what the fuck they were doing. They had been watching Frankie and Johnny and were appalled at how it seemed like Al Pacino was swallowing Michelle Pfeiffer’s mouth. Their lips had barely grazed at first, and then Lottie’s sticky lips got caught in Jackie’s braces. Definitely not romantic. 

But they tried again two years later and it was a lot more successful. Another year later and Jackie started dating Jeff Sadecki and Lottie - well, Lottie kind of just…mingled. She ended up losing her virginity to some Dean Scavetcki and was repulsed by the male body after that. Still, she would kiss guys at parties to keep up appearances and internally die when they swapped spit. (Little did she know just how dying felt.) 

If kissing Jackie wasn’t an indicator of which gender Lottie preferred, she definitely realized it when she started sneaking kisses with girls when no one else was watching. And when she had sex with Susan Perkins? Oh, she finally realized why sex was enjoyable. She still would have rather experienced sex for the first time with Jackie. They experienced all of their other firsts together so why did this have to be different? 

Because Jackie was straight, and best friends didn’t fuck each other. Not that Lottie would view that as just sex with her Jackie. It would be making love. But still! And yes, they kissed - twice, but that was just practicing! Best friends had done it before. 

She digresses. 

For two years Lottie has watched Jackie (unhappily) date Jeff and mingle with other people to try and find the feeling she feels for Jackie. How her heart beats just a little faster, not enough to make her queasy or her chest ache, but enough to sharpen her breath and warm her skin. How her mind feels it’s wrapped in perfume and flowers as she thinks of Jackie and anything related to Jackie. How everything can somehow be connected back to Jackie. How when Jackie hurts, Lottie hurts, and how Lottie wants to consume the pain just so Jackie won’t have to feel it. How Lottie wants to hurt who hurts Jackie. How she feels like she can be herself so freely, no thinking beforehand or feel like there was a thin veil over her to murk certain parts of herself. 

Lottie tried, but she could only ever find that feeling with Jackie. Even now with her useless, paralyzed heart in her chilled chest, she feels the ghost of her heart slightly picking up at the thought or sight of Jackie Taylor. Her Jackie. 

Jackie had been her saving grace (quite literally) these past few months. The daylight ring on her left middle finger was the same deer ring Jackie had gifted her during their last cotillion in honor of graduating from that performative spectacle they only did for their parents. Hearing Jackie shout out plays during practice and give encouraging game day speeches wrapped around her like a blanket of normalcy. When she was transitioning, Jackie had been who she saw. Duncan had said that whoever or whatever you see during transitioning is your tether to the real world - the living. Who or what you see is what lets you either finish dying or stick around as the living dead. Apparently Jackie still wanted her around. 

But Lottie also hated being around Jackie. Every single human being and animal smelled absolutely divine. (Lottie thought vanilla was crack when alive, but boy was she wrong.) These smells were of course most heightened when you were a newbred (a baby vamp) and humans smelled better than animals. But Jackie smelled the best. There was something about her blood that literally sung to Lottie. Like the blood vessels had faces and arms, and they could hold instruments and shape their mouths to form harmonies. And it kissed Lottie’s ears and caressed her brain like silk. It made her undead heart throb and vroom around like The Flash running into buildings. It made her entire cold body feel like raging fire. Her fangs ached and it was nearly impossible to keep them hidden. And her throat, God did it burn. It was like her teeth were being smacked with a hammer as acid was poured down her throat. 

It was the worst possible temptation and yearning that Lottie had ever endured. She thought wanting Jackie beforehand was bad, this was bad. So bad. 

So Lottie had been scaling back on her time spent with Jackie. No longer was she the first one to arrive at practices and games. She didn’t linger afterwards, choosing to shower when she got home than with the rest of the girls. For parties she smoked cigarettes that no longer held any taste (or harm) to her and tried to get lost in the music. She didn’t even really go to parties anymore, they were too tempting. It felt like a restaurant to her and she didn’t want to risk hurting anyone. And she basically never hung out with Jackie anymore, not one-on-one like they used to. 

Every Friday after school since they were five-years-old, without fail, they would spend the night at each other’s house. Sometimes it was Lottie’s and they would be unsupervised after 8:00 pm because that’s when Rosaline “put her to bed”. Other times the Taylor’s would feel extra possessive and want to keep an eye on Jackie so they would stay at her place. Even when Shauna started stealing Jackie away and Jeff became a nuisance, Jackie always made time for Lottie. Especially these last few months because of…the accident. Jackie wanted to make sure Lottie knew that she was there if she ever needed anything; eating too many calories in ice cream as they mooned over romcoms, painting each other’s fingernails as they swapped gossip, practicing soccer, or just a shoulder to cry on. Or literally anything. 

Lottie appreciated it all and hated that she couldn’t show that. She hated that she had to push Jackie away. Because if she didn’t, then Jackie could end up hurt or worse. As tempting as Jackie’s blood was, it wasn’t stronger than the fear of losing Jackie. Nothing could be stronger than that and the love that accompanied it. (Except it wasn’t love, right?) 

Sure, Lottie could at least answer Jackie’s texts or a few calls. (Never a FaceTime call though. No, Lottie was too paranoid about her appearance. She looked the exact same except for when she “turned”, but she still worried that Jackie could tell. That all humans could tell. Jackie knew her better than anyone, had watched her body grow and change, surely she could pick up on this.) But she didn’t. If she answered those texts or any calls, it would be harder to keep her physical distance from the town’s beloved queen. It was all or nothing. 

Currently Lottie was writing in her journal with those smelly gel pens that Jackie got her. (Very Vampire Diaries of her. Yeah, she knows. Get the jokes out now people!) Lottie had always found solace in journaling (not because Jackie and Shauna did it) because paper couldn’t judge you, and Duncan said it would help sort out the mess that came with this new lifestyle. It helped to write down how each animal tasted differently and the best areas she could go for hunting. It also helped calm her mind (and dead heart) over her best friend. When her hand shook to pick up her phone or her body vibrated to go to Jackie, Lottie picked up a pen and got to writing. Which was what she was doing now. 

She had some mixtape playing on her phone, her earbuds plugged in deeply to her ears. The music was up loud because hearing damage was no longer an issue and all of her senses were heightened to protect her. It was a mixtape Natalie helped Jackie make for Lottie. (She only knows this because she knows Jackie’s music taste and half of these songs were not hers. Lottie shared both Jackie and Natalie’s music taste so it made sense.) 

She was immersed in the thoughts and emotions pouring out on the page, like the journal was the ocean and those thoughts and feelings were a boat and she was on the boat, when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Her elegantly bushy eyebrows rose and her dark brown eyes flitted up. Every muscle in her body was tightening itself into predatorial action and her senses were sharpening. The music faded away and her writing was forgotten. 

Floral. Japanese Cherry Blossom perfume from Bath & Body Works. Cherry chapstick. That’s what Lottie smelled, and she could hear grunting. She knew all of those smells and that sound from anywhere. She knew that taste that permeated the air from anywhere. 

Lottie paused her music and tugged her earbuds out. Neatly folding the wired buds on her phone and gently placing them on her journal, she stood up from her plushy bed (that felt too comfortable due to her heightened senses, so she chose to sleep on the floor most nights) and faced her window. Sure enough, there was Jackie Taylor fumbling to climb inside Lottie’s bedroom. She looked ridiculous to say the least, like Stiles Stilinski. Her letterman jacket was hanging around her middle body and bunched on her right arm that was already in the bedroom and pulling herself in. One leg was awkwardly thrown in as well. Her always perfectly done hair was now not perfect and she was huffing and puffing like she was about to blow Lottie’s mansion down. But when she saw Lottie, she brightened. 

“Hey, Lot. Gonna give a girl a hand?” 

No, Lottie thought but didn’t say. As rarely as Lottie saw Jackie these days, she touched her even less. It was like her entire body was being electrocuted and she couldn’t stop buzzing. It just accentuated the smell of Jackie’s blood and the call to Lottie’s soul. All it did was make Lottie never want to let go of Jackie. Lottie worried that if she didn’t drink Jackie’s blood, then she would surely accidentally crush her bones and stop her heart. 

But, Lottie walked over and gently helped Jackie in. Lottie was gentle at heart so that’s how she treated everyone. But there was extra care when it came to Jackie. And nowadays it is even worse. Lottie was painfully conscious of her strength and her force. No one ever expresses how difficult it is to suppress your strength when you become a vampire. Yes, the bloodlust is perhaps the worst part. But being able to snap a spinal cord in a simple one arm hug is an excruciating worry. Lottie can never hold Jackie’s hand again without the fear of crushing all those bones to dust. Playfully pushing her would send her halfway across the soccer field! 

God, Lottie hates playing soccer so bad now. She never thought that would be a sentence she would utter in her own mind ever. She never thought it would be such a passionate feeling. Aside from Jackie, soccer was her safe haven from the real world. Nothing mattered when you were on the pitch because that checkered ball was all that mattered. You had to focus on getting that ball from one end to the other with nine girls going at you and working with eight other girls. (And of course you had to worry about losing your spot to someone on JV.) Not to mention the rush that came with the sport. 

Now though, it was pure hell. Lottie had all of that to worry about still on top of worrying about killing teenage girls. She could literally rip a girl in half if she went at her a certain way. Not only would that be depressing, but she’d out herself and the rest of vampires (and the supernatural world) to the public so there’s that. Underworld: Awakening and Underworld: Blood Wars would no longer be fiction but reality. So yeah, soccer was no longer fun and freeing. It was literal hell for her. 

But she couldn’t quit. Maybe for a while, since she was just in a traumatic accident and everyone is oh so sympathetic afterwards. But eventually everyone would expect her back on the team. (Except for Jackie, Natalie, and Laura Lee. But even they would just be concerned and bug Lottie about it to a certain degree.) So Lottie had to stay on the team and act like soccer wasn’t the most stressful part of her existence. 

Jackie smiled up at Lottie as she found her footing. Lottie was a tall girl for her (eternal) age and the height difference between her and Jackie was comical. Maybe that’s partly why people were always surprised when they found out the two were best friends. The 5’4 short stack was besties with the 5’10 beanstalk? Yep! And they both loved it for essentially the same reasons, the depth to those reasons different. Lottie liked carrying Jackie around because it was something only she could do and it made her feel special in Jackie’s life. She liked being able to care for Jackie. And Jackie liked Lottie carrying her around because she liked being cared for and not having to walk everywhere. Jackie hated the crane in her neck from having to look up at Lottie, but Lottie found it adorable. Jackie’s height was so cute to Lottie and she loved their height relationship. Even now, she could feel her still heart fluttering. 

“Thanks.” Jackie chirped in that adorable voice of hers. 

“You’re welcome.” Lottie said, ever the polite young girl. Not only had her parents instilled manners in her to accommodate their rich status, but she found that it didn’t cost to be kind. “What are you doing climbing through my window at 10:49 at night?”

“What are you doing with your window open at 10:49 at night?” Jackie shot back. 

“I like the breeze. How’d you climb up here?” Lottie fired back, furrowing her eyebrows and peering around Jackie’s shoulder even though she could literally see straight ahead without Jackie’s head in the way. 

Jackie turned around and looked out the window. “Oh, I climbed the rosebush ladder thing!” She said it like it was the easiest and simplest thing in the world. 

Lottie’s face screwed up in sheer terror. “You could’ve fallen!” 

“Yeahhh well I had to see you, and I didn’t want to piss off your parents by ringing the doorbell.” 

“You could’ve texted me, I would’ve let you in.” Lottie said after calming down. 

“Would you have? Miss I’ve-been-ignoring-your-texts! Actually, I think you even left me on read once.” 

Lottie looked up and sighed. Of course that’s why Jackie was visiting her, because of the distancing. It was bound to happen when you spend twelve years of your life growing up with someone and being their other half. Lottie expected Jackie to notice within two days and get curious and eventually confront her about it. Jackie wasn’t an argumentative or confrontational person, but she was a girl who liked answers and needed to know what was wrong with those she cared about. Sometimes she could be a little nosy or overbearing, but it was all in good faith. 

“What’s going on with you? Is it your parents?” Jackie presses, the worry in those bug eyes causing them to glow like honey and - oh, Lottie could just melt in them. 

Of course Jackie would ask about her parents. Even though the Matthews are rich and could afford to have at home nurses cater to them, Jackie knew Lottie would still go out of her way to take care of the parents who never took care of her. But that wasn’t it. Her parents were healing just fine from the boat collapse and didn’t even need a nurse - or Lottie. 

“No. No, they’re fine. We’re all fine.” Lottie answered truthfully. 

(Well, she wasn’t totally fine. There were no physical mundane worries, but her mind was a warzone. No longer did she hallucinate things and feel like a crazy nutjob, but her mind was still a mess. A part of Lottie prefers being a vampire over a schizophrenic weirdo and another part of her wishes she could be the weirdo again.) 

“Then what is it?” Jackie asks with a frown that makes her look like a puppy. Lottie remembers when she used to teasingly squeeze those cheeks during sleepovers. If she did that now, she’d probably rip Jackie’s jaw off. God, she felt like she was gonna be sick. 

Lottie hesitated because she didn’t know what to say. What could she say? Certainly not the truth! If she said, “yeah I’m just struggling with being a vampire. I don’t want to snap you in half or drain you of your blood. And soccer is driving me crazy. But I’ve healed up just fine!” that wouldn’t go over well with Jackie. So what did Lottie tell Jackie? How could she explain that she was distancing herself to keep Jackie safe? It wouldn’t make sense if she said that without context. She couldn’t lie or gaslight Jackie because that wasn’t the kind of person Lottie Matthews was. So not the truth, not a lie. Then what? 

Jackie kept staring at Lottie and once again Lottie started to worry that Jackie would be able to see a difference. Were her fangs out? Were her eyes red? Has her skin changed to Natalie’s paleness? No, no it was none of those things. Jackie was just worried because Lottie was never this quiet. Lottie had never taken this long to tell Jackie anything except for when she came out as gay and when she told Jackie she had schizophrenia. So that right there obviously meant something big was going on, which just made things even worse for Lottie. 

Another part of Lottie wishes she wasn’t a vampire or a schizophrenic weirdo but dead. Her parents would mourn her for a while, contemplate their parental teachings and finally acknowledge their neglect only to reassure themselves that they did everything right. Laura Lee would pray to her and God every night for the rest of her life. Natalie would toast to her and dedicate a joint to her. The rest of the team would be sad and reminisce on their time together, maybe forever. But it’s Jackie that really sickens that wish of having died. 

A part of Jackie would have died with Lottie because a part of herself is Lottie. The both of them were girls with hearts of gold birthed from parents with hearts of coal. They both just wanted their parents to stop caring about superficial things and care about them. They both loved cheesy rom coms and vintage clothes. They both loved soccer and animals. Both wanted a pet dog or pet cat but couldn’t get one because their parents wouldn’t let them due to them being too annoyingly rowdy and accident prone. Both liked the occasional cigarette shared with Nat. They loved their teammates and would do absolutely anything for them and not expect anything in return. 

Both girls were so much alike but also so different. They had similar experiences and understood each other’s thoughts and feelings. But they weren’t the same people. They still had their differences. Like how Jackie would end up crying if she was angry whereas Lottie needed to walk away and cool off. Lottie had a spiritual connection whereas Jackie really didn’t believe in anything, which affected how they viewed things and acted / reacted to things. (Like Jackie referring to Lottie for comfort and guidance, where Lottie would turn to God.) Lottie kind of enjoyed dressing preppy and girly and just hated how it felt forced by her parents, whereas Jackie wished she could dress more like Shauna and Mari. Jackie was effortlessly good at school whereas Lottie was only good because she tried. Jackie was kind and open to all whereas Lottie was a sweetheart but didn’t really go out of her way to befriend people. Jackie liked going to parties for the social aspects and Lottie liked going to parties for the feeling she got from being there and just wanted to vibe. 

They were the perfect amount of the same and different. Yin and yang. So if Lottie had died in the harbor that night, so would have half of Jackie. Lottie would be eternal in Jackie’s mind and a constant pain in her heart. Everything would somehow remind Jackie of Lottie at first. Then over time, as she would forget things about Lottie or not have Lottie as her immediate first thought, she would feel guilty. And when it all came to an end, Jackie would look forward to being reunited with Lottie. And Lottie couldn’t do that to Jackie, so she didn’t. 

Someday, Jackie would be forced to do that to Lottie, and Lottie wasn’t looking forward to it. A world without Jackie Taylor felt like a world without sunshine. That just didn’t feel like a world worth living in to Lottie. 

“I’ve just been…struggling, with the memories. From that night.” Lottie finally settled on saying because it was the vague truth. 

Jackie softened and of course reached out to comfort Lottie like she always did. Lottie tensed before reluctantly easing into Jackie’s touch. The shorter, lighter haired brunette frowned but didn’t comment on the action. Jackie rubbed the warm heel of her hand against Lottie’s forearm and squeezed. It felt like love being injected right into Lottie’s bloodstream and it felt stupendous. It was something Lottie could (and wanted) to get addicted to. 

“Have you been journaling? I know that helps you sometimes.” Jackie asked. 

“Yeah, I have.” Is all Lottie said in response. It was all she really needed to say. 

Jackie nodded her head. Her eyes slowly flickered to the side and she bit her lip. Clearly she wasn’t satisfied with Lottie’s answer and was still worried. Lottie did forget to clarify if the journaling was helping or not. 

“What about Dr. Pinkett? Have you been to see her?” 

Dr. Pinkett was Lottie’s therapist, but she didn’t really have any reason to go to her anymore seeing as how vampirism is a cure for schizophrenia. It also wasn’t like she could be of much help to Lottie’s mental frustration since she didn’t know vampires existed. Lottie needed a therapist that specializes in vampires, and she wasn’t sure those existed. Duncan was technically the closest thing to a vampire therapist she had. Maybe he could refer to one. 

Again, none of this was anything Lottie could tell Jackie. 

Lottie just shook her head. “No, I haven’t.”

Jackie frowned. “You should.” 

Lottie sighed. She knew that Jackie wouldn’t be satisfied until she agreed to see Dr. Pinkett, and that still wouldn’t be totally satisfying until Jackie knew that Lottie really had gone. So for once, Lottie lied to Jackie. And since she had never done it before, Jackie couldn’t even tell. 

“I will. 

Jackie gave a firm nod. “Good!” 

Silence. That was something that was rare between the two girls but never tense or bad. They could excel in silence with one another because they found comfort in just each other’s presence. Lottie can remember laying in a field with Jackie, basking in the warmth of the sun (but Jackie felt warmer than even the surface of the sun). At first they had been having a platonic picnic date and took a bunch of pictures on Jackie’s polaroid camera Lottie bought her for her 14th birthday. They had kicked the soccer ball around some and then laid down. They conversed which drifted into only Jackie yapping and Lottie making occasional comments. Eventually they settled into silence. They were lying opposite of each other, only their heads next to each other. They had felt so unbelievably close and intimate in that moment. It was one of Lottie’s favorite memories with Jackie, and it still is. 

But now the silence is tense and awkward. It’s like the silence was calling Lottie out on her bullshit and alerting Jackie to Lottie’s internal struggles. And of course it would, because the two girls were just that connected. It made Lottie sigh frustratedly. She hated this! She just wanted things back to the way they used to be with Jackie. She wanted to go back to silently yearning for her best friend while still being best friends. It felt like they couldn’t be best friends anymore, not as long as Lottie was distancing herself until she got her strength and cravings under control. She didn’t even know how long that would take. Now she was yearning for Jackie as her best friend and girlfriend. 

“Is something else bothering you?” Jackie asked, almost suspiciously. That was new. Jackie and Lottie always trusted each other. They never lied or hid anything from each other (except for Lottie’s romantic devotion to Jackie, of course). So Jackie sounding suspicious felt cold to Lottie and made her skin crawl. She didn’t like it one bit. 

Lottie parted her lips and hesitated, which of course didn’t help her situation. She closed her mouth and swallowed hard. Finally, she stepped back, causing Jackie;s hand to let go of her arm. That made Jackie frown in confusion. Jackie never got confused when it came to Lottie because she knew the gentle giant like the back of her hand. And Lottie knew Jackie the same way. 

“It’s late. I’m tired.” Clipped sentences now. Great. Lottie was doing a bang up job at…whatever the fuck she’s doing. Was she trying to push Jackie away or trying to keep Jackie from worrying? Was she trying to save their friendship or ruin it? God, she didn’t know anymore. She knew she wanted to keep Jackie as her best friend but didn’t think it was the smartest decision. 

Jackie’s frown deepened and Lottie immediately wanted to rewind and make the conscientious decision to save their friendship. But it was too late, it looked like she was heading towards ruining their friendship. 

“But you were still awake when I got here.” Jackie pointed out as she looked at the journal on the bed and back to Lottie. 

Good point. Lottie bit her lip. 

“Lottie, just talk to me. What’s going on?” Jackie asked, crossing her arms in concern. 

What’s going on? What’s going on is that Lottie died when that stupid boat her parents took her on capsized. Other people died and others got injured, but she got brought back to life because a vampire paramedic took pity on her because she was only 17. Now she’s struggling with bloodlust and controlling her strength. All she wants is for her best friend to hold her and tell her that everything’s going to be okay even if it isn't true. But she can’t! Her life has completely turned upside-fucking-down and she’s just reeling. It’s all so new and complicated and navigating this new lifestyle is hard! Lottie’s scared and she misses Jackie so badly it hurts. 

But again, Lottie can’t say a word of that to Jackie. So she’s left with pushing Jackie away - possibly for good - or lying to her. And she hates both with her entire being. 

Lottie hangs her head. 

“Go away, Jackie.” Lottie says softly and quietly. That was a sentence Lottie never thought she’d say, and one that tastes like bile on her tongue. Or rancid blood. 

Jackie quirks her eyebrows and lips together in a warm disbelieving gesture of hers full of amusement. Of course she would react that way, because Lottie would never say that or treat her this way. It has to be a joke. “Go away? Since when do you tell me to go away?” 

“Since now.” Lottie says calmly and softly, a bit of firmness that only a leader would use. She lifts her head and looks Jackie in the eyes when says this, like she’s some confident leader that is in charge and knows that this is for the best. Like Jackie needs to obey her. She’s never spoken like this to Jackie before. 

Jackie furrows her eyebrows and shifts her feet. Her crossed arms tighten, as if to hold herself and ground herself. To keep herself from freaking out. 

“But..”

“Go, Jackie.”

The two girls, once best friends, stare at each other. Neither of them are aware of where they stand now. Neither of them know if Lottie is really trying to push Jackie away. But neither of them like this. Lottie acts unaffected while Jackie shows her confusion and pain. Lottie hates it, God does she hate it. 

Jackie frowns. “Fine.” She says, angrily. She turns and starts to head for the window then stops. “Can I at least use your front door? I don’t think I can Rizzo my way down.” 

God, leave it to Jackie to reference a movie when having a serious moment. It takes everything of Lottie to not smile brightly at the girl. 

“I’ll be quiet, so I won't wake your parents.” Jackie adds softly, kindly. 

Lottie’s dead, useless heart flutters at the familiarity of Jackie’s compassion. It was always her favorite attribute of Jackie’s. She loved how steadfast it was. 

Lottie nods. “Yeah.” 

Jackie nods too. They both stare at one another for another second before Jackie goes to walk past Lottie and to her bedroom door. Lottie ducks her eyes down and holds her breath as Jackie walks past. She has to strain herself to focus on the fibers in her carpet so that she doesn’t reach out and pull Jackie’s tiny body into her tall one. It feels like her entire body is pulled taught just to keep her arm from reaching out. It’s excruciating to be so close to what you want and having the ability to do what you want, but acting against it. It’s the worst feeling in the universe. 

“I’ll see you in school.” Is the last thing Jackie says, not kindly but not unkindly either, before slipping quietly out of Lottie’s bedroom. 

The bedroom door clicks shut behind Jackie. Used to sneaking out of her own house, Jackie is a pro at creeping down the mansion stairs and out the impressive front door. Lottie closes her eyes and listens to Jackie’s heartbeat until she’s two blocks away. Hanging her head, she walks back over to her bed and sits down. She doesn’t pick up her journal and phone. She doesn’t resume writing and listening to her music. 

Lottie just sits there and stares at the past, and she cries for it to come back to her. 

[ghostfaceaddams]

yellowjackets masterlist

Starring Natalie Scatorccio...

tba!

Starring Jackie Taylor...

tba!

Starring Lottie Matthews...

tba!

Starring character x character...

how did we get here? i used to know you so well - jackie x lottie

Featuring...(the drabble files)

tba!

[ghostfaceaddams]

how did we get here? i used to know you so well | masterlist

"The truth is hiding in your eyes / And it's hanging on your tongue, just boiling in my blood."

Synopsis: Lottie Matthews has to hide her new secret from her childhood best friend Jackie Taylor (who she is secretly in love with). Nothing could possibly go wrong. Right?

Chapter One Chapter Two

[ghostfaceaddams]

ibold | chapter one

summary: The five survivors of the 2022 Woodsboro massacre are now in New York City moving on with their lives or trying to at least.

warnings: cussing and a moment of violence in a flashback, that's all, I think.

word count: 3,060.

a/n: This is my baby so I hope everyone likes it! Feel free to pick an actress as Cairo or just have your own image of her in your mind or pretend you're Cairo; whatever makes the reading experience better for you guys.

series masterlist | next part

She was the most beautiful human being Cairo had ever seen in all of her eighteen-and-a-half years of being alive on earth. Living in New York City, you see a shit ton of people every day and that is literal. Hypothetically, you see a million people in a year; at stores, on walks, as extras in a tv show or movie, etc.

Out of all of those people, no one even compared to the raven-haired girl across the room. She was short, but Cairo could always spot her no matter the crowd. Most people teased her for her height, but Cairo genuinely found it endearing. Her smile was brighter than quasars, constantly leaving Cairo on her knees and rendering her useless. She had dimples accenting her marble, smooth cheeks. It was such a funny thing to Cairo, that dimples were biologically considered imperfections, but non-scientists find them alluring. All of the freckles kissing across her face were the stars in Cairo’s galaxy, the girl being Cairo’s revolving world. She had a unique voice that wasn’t like anyone else’s. There was a rasp to the edge of her words; sometimes the rasp was thickly coated, like when she woke up in the morning or was running out of breath or got excited. It could be deep, but not Sophia Bush deep. No matter what, it was always soft and pleasant sounding. A lot of people agreed with Cairo that listening to the other girl’s voice was calming, a remedy for anxiety even. Her eyes were big but not the repugnant kind. They were a deep brown that could light up and yet still remain mysterious. Her eyes were her most innocent feature and the ones that got her everything she wanted. She wasn’t just hot though. No. Her brain could remember the entire dialogue to The Babadook and graduated at the top of her class. She was very perceptive in a mostly subtle way. Snark was a fabulous hobby of hers and her heart was the most golden heart that ever shone. Selflessness and loyalty were the foundations of her persona, of who she was; what made her her. Everyone tripped over themselves at her natural, graceful beauty. Half of them were privy enough to see what she was about on the inside and fall head over heels for her. Cairo was definitely the latter. So was Chad. Cairo couldn’t blame him for falling for her childhood best friend. It’d be concerning if he didn’t. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less to watch him give heart eyes to the girl she was in love with. ‘She could never be yours anyways. You know that.’ Falling in love with your best friend was the worst form of emotional pain imaginable.

Cairo despised the media and pop culture that romanticized the trope, especially the ones with a happy ending. Happy endings were overrated and unrealistic, especially when it came to “unrequited love.” It either ends up being requited, or they find someone else. That wasn’t always the case though. For eighteen years, Tara had only ever looked at Cairo with platonic respect and adoration.

Ever since she was a teen, Cairo tried to find someone else to crush on and hoped for someone to want her. The last part never happened until this year. She was still out of luck in the crushing department. At the end of the day though, as much as Cairo felt like she was suffocating, she was happy for Chad and Tara. They were both her friends that she cared about and loved deeply. She’d never risk their happiness for her own, especially when it wasn’t likely to lead to happiness for her. Cairo winced as she sipped the awful beer in the red solo cup. It didn’t matter how hard she tried with alcohol; it just didn’t fancy her like it did the others. “Hey, Roe.” Cairo didn’t need to look up to know that it was Quinn who was standing beside her. Quinn was the only one who ever called her that, her own personal nickname for Cairo.

Everyone else called the brunette girl by her full name - or Cai - and teachers called her by her last name - Miss Reed - or Cairo. She really hated her name sometimes. Well, most of the time if she was being honest. “Hey, Quinn.” The ginger got to work with grabbing two red solo cups and picking up one of the glass bottles of alcohol. Cairo bit her lip and scanned the packed room for any sign of her roommate or their other two friends. Cairo turned back to Quinn to shout over the music, “Where’s Anika?” Quinn was grinning when she spoke, her eyes glittering intoxicatingly. “She’s trying to help Ethan score a date.” “Key word trying.” Cairo teased earning a chuckle from the other girl. “Mindy is having fun watching, and I am getting drinks for myself and that cute boy waiting for me.” Cairo turned to follow the direction Quinn had pointed to with her eyes. The boy looked to be the same height as Quinn with curly hair & a stubble that made him seem like a fuckboy, but his boyish smile and awkward wave was contradicting. The brunette nodded her head. She took a step closer to the ginger and leaned in close so she could be heard. “I think I’m going to leave, maybe check on Sam on the way back.” Before the friend group had rallied together and ventured off to this party, the Carpenter sisters had gotten into it...again.

The arguing between the two sisters was becoming more and more frequent as time was going on. Everyone was on edge, wanting to say something to ease the tension but not knowing what to do or knowing if it was their place to even do or say anything. The twins and Cairo worried more than anyone, having grown up with the two sisters. Tara used to listen to Cairo and the others when they had something to say. Especially Cairo. Nowadays, Tara only ever listened to herself and only did what sounded pleasing to her. Guess Chad sounded especially pleasing to the girl. Cairo was really trying not to think about that though. About any of it really. “What? Come on, you said you were going to try!” Quinn lightly smacked the back of her hand against Cairo’s bicep. The brunette chuckled halfheartedly and raised her eyebrows. “And I did, now I’m leaving.” Cairo knew that if she didn’t move her ass at that very second, Quinn was going to showcase a frown and beg Cairo to stay “for herself and not me.”

(It was true, Quinn was doing this all to help Cairo take her mind off of the girl she couldn’t have. But it was becoming too much for Cairo.) Quinn was already in the midst of tilting her head to the side and parting those talented lips. But Cairo was quicker. She was quicker than anyone at everything, except for telling Tara her feelings. Which was precisely why she was in this predicament. “I’ll see you later, Quinn.” Quinn sighed but let Cairo give her a hug and turn to head out the door. It wasn’t until she was down the sidewalk and turning into the quad on campus that Cairo finally felt like she could breathe. She dunked her head down and placed her hands on her hips. She couldn’t stop seeing Tara with Chad.

Or with Amber. She had thought that watching Tara kiss or hold hands with Amber was painful, to watch Tara’s eyes light up whenever she saw or talked about Amber, having to encourage Tara to make a move and smile for her, she thought all of that hurt.

But this…this was so much worse. Cairo almost wished she was back in high school, watching the two girls parade around. Walking in on Chad and Tara, that had been worst of all.

It was her own fault, she should’ve knocked a second time and waited for an okay. But she could tell something was wrong with Tara and she had to get to the bottom of it before she permanently lost her mind. There were too many days spent canceled and nights spent on read. It wasn’t like Tara, not even when she was with Amber. She had left the apartment, bolting down the stairs and struggling to hold the bile in before making it outside. There wasn’t any shame in her body as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve and stood up. They lived in New York City, some girl puking on the sidewalk was the least weird thing citizens saw. Cairo went back to the dorm that night crying. Anika was staying at Mindy’s dorm, which was only down the hallway, so she didn’t have to worry about being bombarded with questions.

She spent the rest of the evening into later afternoon, hibernating under her covers with her earbuds in and curtains drawn. She was in the shower, changing out of her clothes from the night before finally, when Anika made it back. They spoke briefly through the curtain and then Anika was gone, off to hang out more with her girlfriend and their friends.

So, Cairo just dressed in whatever she found and got back into bed with a trashcan nearby. Having to pretend for another month like she didn’t know they were together was utter torture for Cairo.

Every time she was around Chad she felt nauseated, and she couldn’t look at Tara without her throat starting to hurt from suppressing sobs. At parties, she got blackout drunk so that she didn’t have to remember them being touchy with one another. She stopped texting Tara as much and didn’t ask to hang out anymore. For two months, Cairo had been smiling in the presence of the couple and drinking herself to sleep. She was getting tired of the drinking if she was honest. Being hungover and heartbroken was the most horrific combo.

The past few days she had been lying in bed with her hood blocking her from the rest of the world and earbuds drilled in. She hated how much of a baby she was about this whole thing. Hell, this felt worse than all of the stabs she received last year.

(Or the single one she received at eight years old.) Or worse than the betrayal of her older sister who she had idolized. “Tara will never be yours, Cairo.” “She doesn’t have to be, as long as she isn’t yours.” Then she headbutted Amber, sending the girl staggering backwards. There were three gunshots that sang Cairo to sleep.

When she woke up, Sidney was there. She didn’t see Tara until the next day. Since then, she hadn’t seen Tara a whole lot. She figured that the young Carpenter girl blamed her for the Ghostface attacks or wished that she hadn’t made it out alive.

Or maybe she cared more about Chad than Cairo. She wasn’t really sure. All Cairo was ever sure of anymore was that she missed her cousin Sidney. Sidney had wanted to adopt Cairo after being orphaned, but authorities thought it was best for her to stay with a closer relative, her father. He had no problem signing his rights over to Kirby three years later when she finally turned 21 years old.

For reasons that didn’t make sense, he didn’t want to give Cairo over to Sidney. Cairo thinks he just reached his limit and saw Kirby as the closest scapegoat. “You still want me?” “Of course I do. I might have adopted you, but you’ll always be my little sister, and I’ll always take care of you. Okay?” Cairo blew out a raspberry and started walking in the direction of the Carpenter-Quinn household.

It took two knocks in two intervals for Sam to open the door.

Cairo stood on the other side, twirling her earbuds around; to the left and to the right, raveling the cord around her finger and unraveling it. She immediately dropped her hand, holding her earbuds with both hands, when the door opened. Cairo grinned mischievously and cocked her head to the side. “Hello, Cute Boy.” Said man chuckled softly and smiled charmingly at the shorter girl. Cairo kept on smiling as the man turned back to Sam, who looked rather uncomfortable at the whole situation. “I’ll call you later.” The stranger said. Sam nodded her head and lifted her tense lips up. “Okay.” “Okay.” The man said, still smiling dreamily at Sam. Cairo had to duck her head down and scratch her cheek as the man walked by so he wouldn’t see her cheesing. She watched him walk down the stairs, turning back to look at Sam at the top step before continuing.

She raised her dusty brown eyebrows at Sam with the same antagonizing grin in place. “Cute Boy from across the hall, huh?” Sam scoffed and rolled her eyes. Her reluctant smile contradicted her previous actions.

All Cairo could do was laugh. “Get in.” Sam nudged her head behind her. Cairo did as she was told, plopping herself down on the couch. Sam gave the brunette a reprimanding look, but it didn’t succeed its message.

The younger girl had her hands clasped behind her head and was smiling gorgeously. It was the smile that made her gray-brown eyes sparkle and had Sam wishing for a different life for the girl. Sam smiled and crossed her arms in that sisterly manner of hers. “What are you doing here, Cairo?” The brunette shrugged nonchalantly. But her downcast eyes and moving feet said she was uncomfortable. “Just came to check on you.” When she flicked her gaze up, she saw Sam looking to the side and nodding her head. She released her bottom lip and ran a hand through her inky black hair as she descended on the couch.

The older girl smacked Cairo’s shoes prompting her to raise her feet. She promptly set them back down on Sam’s lap afterwards. Sam cupped the top of the girl’s bottom legs and turned to look at her.

Cairo no longer had her hands behind her head but clasped carefully on her stomach. She was looking at Sam like she was the older sister or the mom, patiently waiting for the girl to speak and waiting to catch Sam if need be. “She’s not dealing with this, Cairo.” The gray-brown eyed girl sighed empathetically, her head nodding along. “Does she talk to you about it?” Sam asked. Cairo glanced down at her lap and shifted. “She doesn’t talk much to me anymore.” It wasn’t like Tara had just dropped Cairo.

They stilled texted a lot and there were frequent phone calls. But ever since the attacks in Woodsboro last year, Tara had been keeping her distance from Cairo. When they did talk or see each other, it was as if everything was the same as it had been before. Ever since Chad and Tara had finally come forward with their relationship (even though it was painfully obvious to everyone), Tara had been more talkative and social with Cairo. The brunette couldn’t help but feel like maybe Chad had said something to prompt the change. He was a nice guy, very protective and loyal to those closest to him, goofy and definitely attractive. Cairo loved Chad. It just made everything hurt so much more. Cairo lifted her gaze from her twitchy fingers to gauge the older girl.

She was looking off into the distance, watching memories and worst-case scenarios on the blank tv screen. Sam looked miserable. That tended to happen when you worried about your little sister’s trauma. “What about you?” Sam stitched her eyebrows together and frowned at the younger girl. Cairo took that as a prompt to elaborate further. “How are you doing with…dealing about this? How’s therapy going?” Sam heaved a heavy sigh that left Cairo’s heart twisting uncomfortably. “I think I need to find a new therapist. This guy pushed me to open up the other night then wanted to assign me to someone else. Pretty sure he has a foot fetish too.” Sam added the last part thoughtfully. “Sounds like a douche. I say dump his ass before he dumps you. But don’t dump Cute Boy.” Cairo grinned like a cheshire cat. Sam rolled her eyes fondly, pushing the brunette’s legs off of her.

Cairo squeaked as she tilted to the side, almost falling off the couch and onto the floor. She watched as Sam got up, heading into the dining room to clean up. That’s when Cairo noticed the two wine glasses and two empty plates. (Cairo tried not to worry about the wine glasses. It was just wine…right? It was drugs and beer that were Sam’s vices, not wine. Christina was the one whose vice was alcohol in general. That woman would drink anything she could get her hands on. Anything that fuzzed her thoughts and shattered her inhibitions was welcomed to her digestive system.) There weren’t any candles or dimly lit lights on in the apartment, so it didn’t seem like they were going for an intimate night. Which made sense, because Sam didn’t know if Tara would be coming back or not.

It didn’t take a genius to piece together that no one knew about Cute Boy because Sam didn’t want to set Tara off in any way. Still, Cairo felt bad for interrupting their date night. “His name is Danny, and we aren’t dating.” Sam said lightly from the kitchen. Cairo shrugged as she picked up a weird looking piece of chicken to sniff. “Could’ve fooled me.” There wasn’t any noise except for the clinking of cutlery and spray of water. Cairo hoisted herself up onto the counter in the kitchen and cupped the edge. “I’m not going to tell anyone that I saw him here, I won’t even mention him at all. Now, tell me about how long this has been going on and who initiated it.” Sam couldn’t help but blush as Cairo smiled and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Cairo laughed softly at the flustered woman and playfully kicked her calf. When a minute passed by with no answer, Cairo raised her eyebrows expectantly.

Sam playfully scoffed and shook her head before begrudgingly starting.

[ghostfaceaddams]

tnhome | chapter one

summary: A look at Tara's current lifestyle and a look back at burying her mother.

warnings: 18+, talk of violence, talk of addiction, cussing, and a funeral for a flashback. That's all, I think.

word count: 3,446

a/n: Hope you all enjoy! It's been done a long time and in my drafts for half that amount of time and hasn't been posted because I was too nervous to. But here it is finally!

previous part | | series masterlist | next part

One-thousand-and-ninety-five days. That’s how many days it had been since Tara last saw or heard from her big sister. A full three years. That was all going to change tonight. Pretty soon, Sam would be back and the big bad monster that was their mother would be gone. The sisters could be reunited again, and Tara could finally be happy again.

While Tara didn’t get Sam back that night, Sam did return to Woodsboro in December. On the first day of the month, she showed up on the Hicks’ front door step and politely asked for Tara. She made sure to thank Judy - and Wes - for looking out for Tara the last three years and for taking the young girl into their home for the past seven months. Before Judy returned Tara to her big sister, Sam had to prove that she was sober. That meant providing signed documents from AA meetings and a urine test. Her one year sobriety chip wasn’t too bad either.

So, after that, the Carpenter sisters were reunited. Now it was September 8th and school was back in session. It was Tara’s senior year to be exact. All the parents of her friends always said that their senior year was the most fun and the easiest (as well as the saddest), but so far it had been nothing but hell for the girl. Especially seeing you draped all over Amber all the fucking time. In the halls, in class, in the cafeteria, in and outside of school. Seeing those two so smitten together was nearly unbearable for Tara. The Latina couldn’t help the visions she had; visions of a buck 120 and blood, the resemblance to her mother’s dead body uncanny. “Tar-Bear, you listening to me?” Tara blinked away the bloodlust and focused on you.

She couldn’t help but smile at the glimmer in your eyes and scooted closer. The two of you were sitting on her bed attempting to do homework but were really listening to Mitski and talking. It was one of Tara’s favorite activities to partake in with you. “Sorry, you know Mitski just tends to take me to some other universe with her music.” You ducked your head down as you snickered and shook your head. This only caused Tara’s smile to widen into a prideful grin, that grin was mostly reserved for just you. “I was asking if you wanted to come over and watch Barbarian this Friday. I’ve heard nothing but good reviews and I think it might be that elevated horror that you prefer.” “You just want to see Bill Skarsgård.” Tara grinned. You reached down and flicked Tara on the nose, causing the shorter girl to wrinkle her nose and roll away for a second. But just a second, because she could never stay away from you for too long. There had been numerous times in the past two years where Amber and Tara had gotten into fights - a few had even turned physical. Amber was always so smug, thinking that she could get you to turn on Tara - your best friend - and believe your girlfriend instead. It didn’t work, of course, but you didn’t pick either side. Tara knows why, and it makes her entire body fume with this rage that had her teeth nearly shattering from her clenched jaw and had her hands trembling.

Sam was so perceptive when it came to her baby sister, she could detect the ever-slightest twitch to the side of Tara’s lips and how rigid her tiny body got. It was usually when their mother would - inevitably - do something to hurt her daughters (verbally or physically). But Amber was caught on the receiving end quite a bit as well. Sam never really did understand why the two were friends and she didn’t understand why they were still friends. Amber was always stealing things from Tara, like her crayons or toys or friends, or her crush. She’d be the first to spat foul words or initiate physical roughness with Tara. It only got worse the older the girls got. The past two years had been a startling confirmation of that. “So it’s mutually beneficial, that’s just more reason for you to come over and watch. Or I could come over here if you’d like.”

You carefully moved a few strands of inky black hair from Tara’s face, noticing the way her eyes swelled with adoration and her body sagged against your lap. “Just you and me, right?” Tara couldn’t help but ask. Tara couldn’t help herself with a lot of things; couldn’t help but call Sam every day after she had left, couldn’t help but sneak over to your house even though she would receive a beating from Christina the next day, couldn’t help but get into physical fights with anyone who so much as slightly elevated her heart rate (especially the ones who spoke about fucking you or would stare at your ass).

Couldn’t help but plunge a knife into her mother repeatedly. “My parents are going to be gone this weekend for some conference my dad has, Amber’s going with the twins and Liv to Crater Point for some stupid party, and Wes is spending time with his mom. So, unless Sam would like to join us, it will just be me and you. And Chrissie, of course.” Chrissie was your dog, named after Jordana Brewster’s character in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning and gifted to you by Tara.

The young Carpenter had of course checked with your parents first; dogs cost a shit ton of money and Tara didn’t want her best friend’s parents to hate her when they practically loved her more than their biological child. Took most of Tara’s money from savings and her paychecks all summer, but Chrissie was worth it. Anything was worth getting to see you smile. Your happiness was Tara’s number one priority in life, and she hated that she was slacking at her duties. She needed to step it up and figure out a plan that wouldn’t cause any ounce of pain for you. “Ah, Chrissie. I’ve missed her.” Tara sticks her bottom lip out in a pout, earning a crackling chuckle from you that sounds more like a scoff. “Well, she misses you, too.” The two of you smile at each other for a moment before easily dissolving into a comfortable silence, one that was common between them. It wasn’t the common occurrence where both would settle their attention on their phones and exist in the same room. No, it was the two of them telepathically sharing thoughts and emotions without saying a word, or to just exist with each other. Silence had always been a rule that Christina brandished in the household, the scars on Tara’s knuckles were reminders of that. Amber always blew up on you when you were too quiet because it unnerved her.

Both of you could only find solace in one another when it came to silence; you didn’t feel like a crazy person and Tara wasn’t scared to stay quiet. A buzzing filtered the air, disturbing the perfect tranquility of the moment. Seeing as how the music didn’t quiet down, it wasn’t Tara’s phone. Didn’t take two seconds for a confirmation from you as you reached over to grab your phone. The slightest puckering of lips and flutter of eyebrows was a dead giveaway for Tara about who had texted you. Amber. Fucking Amber. You typed something back before setting your phone down and gently moving from underneath Tara. She sat up and watched with disappointing eyes as you gathered your things. “Amber’s here.” You sighed. ‘Of course. Of fucking course! Amber ruins everything. She- ‘ Tara’s inner turmoil was halted when you wrapped your arms around her and hugged her tightly. It didn’t go unnoticed by Tara how you two were positioned so you weren’t in front of the window. She had purposely left her blinds open knowing that you two would be spending the day together. Make that only the afternoon. “I thought Sam and I were going to give you a ride home after dinner.” You smiled apologetically and headed towards the bedroom door, not even waiting for Tara to get up off the bed and walk you to the door.

That’d been happening a lot lately, you wouldn’t let her walk you out. It was always subtle, how you’d inch away or wave her off if you guys were at somebody else’s house. Part of Tara - the irrational part - was determined that you were sick of being her friend and were ashamed to be seen with her. The rational part of her reassured her that it had nothing to do with how you saw others seeing you and Tara, but how Amber saw you and Tara.

So, either way, the irrational part of Tara was going to win, and she’d want to rip the skin off of Amber’s face and shove it down her throat until she stopped breathing. Okay. A bit too graphic. ‘Stick to the buck 120, Carpenter.’ “I’m really sorry, Amber just showed up and I can’t really turn her down now that she’s here, that’d be rude.” You swallowed, knowing that either way you were being rude. “Tell Sam sorry for me, will you? I really didn’t know Amber was going to show up.” For the time span of two heartbeats, Tara just stared at you with this blank expression that you saw from her too often. There were some days where it was worse than others, but it hardly happened when Tara was one-hundred-percent focused on you and it was just you two. Tara blinked away her blank expression, replacing it with a cool, hard one that screamed of indifference. But her eyes always gave her away. How they would flash when they flickered down and then darkened when she looked back up.

Of course, there was various darkness’ to Tara’s eyes, so many that you couldn’t even identify what each of them meant. She blinked and swallowed and nodded her head. “That’s okay, we understand. I’ll make sure to tell Sam that.” You grimaced one last weak apologetic smile before ducking out the bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind you (as if Christina was still alive and would smack Tara for the minimalist amount of noise). Part of Tara wanted to just jump off her bed and throw her arms around your divine (and bruised) shoulders to show off to the entire neighborhood that you were friends.

But Tara knew that it was petty and selfish, and those two things could lead to some very bad consequences between you and Amber. “Fucking Amber.” Tara muttered before grabbing one of her pillows and pinning her head against her mattress, wondering how long she could hold her breath.

The sun isn’t out. Tara of course didn’t know that was going to happen when she planned this funeral. And yes, she did plan this all on her own. Judy of course helped out with all the legal mumbo-jumbo and Martha pitched in with the food for the service after the funeral, but Tara picked the date and casket and everything. She made sure she picked the cheapest casket available despite Christina making a respectable amount of money, and she made sure she went to a different cometary.

One that Billy Loomis wasn’t buried at. So many years have passed that there wasn’t any space beside the deceased, teenage serial killer anyways, but still, Tara had to make sure Christina knew that she didn’t get to be happy. ‘You say I took Sam and Dad away from you? Well fine, I’ll take Billy away from you too, for a second time. Take that, Mom.’ But anyways.

The sun isn’t out and this cometary isn’t as modest as the main one in Woodsboro. This cemetery was close to the edge of Woodsboro too, an eternal torment for Christina. She can look right down the road and see her escape! But she never left Woodsboro when she was alive, and now she no longer had the chance to, just a reminder that she once did. Yeah, Tara really put a lot of thought into all of this. The sun hiding was just an added bonus. For once, luck was on her side it seemed. “Hey, Tara.” The orphaned Latina looked up from her spot in her white, plastic chair and at the sound of the voice. She was surprised to see more people accompanying the single voice. It was the twins and Wes; Chad had been the one to speak. Showtime. She “weakly” quirked her lips up in a sad-slash-appreciative smile at the trio. “Hey guys. Thanks for coming.” “Yeah, of course.” Chad said in that serious voice of his that made his voice slightly go higher and had his eyebrows furrowing. Mindy nodded her head beside her brother. “Of course.” Wes repeated Chad’s last sentiment. “We’re here for you no matter what. Is there anything we can do for you or get you anything?” The boy went on to ask. She kept that grimace-mixed-smile on her face and gently shook her head. “No but thank you. You guys being here is doing enough.” Wes smashed his lips together and quirked them up at the corners to nod his head. The twins followed suit with their nodding.

Before they went on to take their seats, the trio took their turns each giving Tara a solo hug before deciding for an impromptu group hug.

Being sixteen-years-old and attending your friend’s funeral for her mother can be a very awkward attendance. You don’t always know how to act or what to say at a funeral when you’re only sixteen, especially when you have to comfort someone else. Tara knows that and doesn’t let it bother her.

Besides, it’s not like she’s actually sad she “had” to kill her mom and now she’s buried six feet under. She’s quite the opposite, actually. She’s elated that Christina is dead and not alive to throw another glass at her head or grip her arm so hard that it leaves marks. Tara’s happy that her mom can’t hurt her anymore, plain and simple. The teen couldn’t help but feel lonely though.

She had heard from Sam; her older sister wasn’t going to make it because she was in the middle of detoxing. Sam had been sober from alcohol for over a year, but news of her mother’s death left her consoling herself with a needle and then she just got hooked. Sam had sounded rough on the phone when Tara spoke to her, breathing heavily and speaking feverishly, but Sam reassured her little sister that she was fine. Despite her habit of lying to Tara so Tara would believe her and not worry, Tara still believed her.

That was Tara’s one fault in life: her big sister Sam. After all, she killed Christina to make Sam come back. She guesses that makes Sam becoming addicted to drugs her own fault. But then she reminds herself that Sam had already been an alcoholic, so becoming a drug addict isn’t a far stretch.

Besides, if Christina had been a decent mother that didn’t wish her child would die, this funeral wouldn’t be happening, and Sam wouldn’t have been tempted. So, it’s not Tara’s fault, she reasons with herself. It’s just fucking life, the addictive genetic and the abusive mother. Tara would never hurt Sam on purpose anyways, she loved Sam more than anyone in the entire world. Well, except for maybe- “Hey, Tara.” You. “Y/N.” Tara expressed her relief in your appearance.

She stood up and you made sure to present yourself for an engulfing hug. Tara wrapped her arms around your shoulders and closed her eyes as your arms wrapped around her comfortingly. Amber watched on distastefully. The crossed arms and scowl were a comical combination that almost caused Tara to laugh. But they were at a funeral, Tara had a role to uphold, and she couldn’t break it, or it could be detrimental.

So, she just closed her eyes again and focused back on your embrace. “Thank you for coming.” Tara said to you before pulling away from you and focusing Amber with a look. “Both of you.” “Sure, no problem. I mean, shit man, you’re burying your mom.” Amber remarked. Tara steadied the raven-haired girl with a glare of disbelief. The Latina was not impressed, clearly. Even if she did plan all of this and was happy her plan to kill her own mom worked, Tara still didn’t appreciate Amber being so crass. “Amber.” You scolded. Amber looked at you and sighed like it was such an inconvenience to her to be nice to Tara on the day of her mother’s funeral. “Sorry, Tara.” Amber said lamely. “How’re you holdin’ up?” Tara swallowed with jew clenched, letting the moment settle in the pit of her stomach. “I’m managing.” Is all Tara said. Amber scoffed, clearly not seeing why Tara was being so short with her. But before things could escalate, you were reaching out to hold Tara’s hand.

The Latina’s wide, doe eyes softened immediately upon resting on you. They pooled with wetness at the way you rubbed your thumb over the back of Tara’s hand. Oh, you were such an angel. A true blessing to every life you visited. Every morning and every night Tara would thank God for introducing her to you and becoming best friends. She appreciated you far more than Amber ever could, and she knew that. She just wished you knew that as well. The way Tara looked at you with those wide, doe eyes glistening with adoration and faux-unshed tears, it was so obvious how in love she was with you. Even someone as blind and deaf as Helen Keller could pick up on the aroma of unconditional love from Tara. How you didn’t see it was beyond her, and beyond Amber as well. Between the hand-holding and Tara’s love-sick gaze, Amber’s moment of kindness was up. “Come on babe, the service is getting ready to start.” With Amber’s outstretched hand and stony-no-room-for-discussion eyes, Tara was sure you were going to bid her farewell and she wouldn’t see you again until after the funeral. You looked at Tara who was staring at the ground that would soon swallow her mother whole, and then you looked at Amber’s calm yet demanding stare.

Then, you calmly said, “I’m going to stay with Tara.” Tara lifting her head to stare at you in awe left Amber wanting to shove the Latina’s face into the ground.

But seeing as how this was a funeral for Tara’s mother and Tara was now a grieving, sixteen-year-old, orphan, that action would be deemed unsavory. So, Amber swallowed her rage and implemented her perfect actress facade. After all the acting Tara had done, she could easily spot Amber’s. “Yeah, of course. I’ll see you guys after, okay?” Amber’s voice was light and gentle with faux compassion, and her squeeze to you and Tara’s arms felt affectionate. Amber quirked her lips up in a tiny smile meant to comfort Tara and soothe you then walked away.

As soon as the raven-haired girl was beyond your shoulder, you were squeezing Tara’s hand and gently pulling her down to the uncomfortable chair. You smiled gently at Tara when she looked at you, and it left Tara tumbling through the whirlwind of love all over again. Together, you both sat down and waited in comfortable silence for the pastor to show and start the service. Your hold on Tara’s hand never once faltered throughout the service. Even when Tara stood at the podium to give the eulogy (she was very tempted to spew all of the guttural truth of Christina Reyes like how she’d spew blood after a punch, but she held herself back), you never tore your encouraging eyes from Tara’s wobbly ones. That’s how it’d always been, just the two of you together against the rest of the world. Christina tried to take Tara out of the world and Amber tried to replace Tara, but they were nothing against you and Tara’s universal, imperishable bond. It was like…how could Tara explain it? Everything needs substance to live and adapts in order to do so. When it came to you and Tara, that’s how it was, as simple as living. If that made any sense. Tara wasn’t sure it did to most people, but it did to her, and she knew it would make sense to you as well. Just further proof of her philosophy on life with you.